Highway to Hell
by Snarkymuch
Summary: For the sake of Sam's love, Lucifer gave up the apocalypse. When fate demanded, he gave up his freedom too. Unable to be without his angel, Sam left everything he knew behind, including his brother. "Right or not, we're doing this. I'm bringing Sam back." Sequel to Stairway To Heaven Co-Written with Clowns or Midgets
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is the sequel to Stairway to Heaven. Clowns or Midget and I loved writing Stairway to Heaven and couldn't leave our story alone. We decided to write another and it was only posted on Clowns or Midgets profile. I wanted to have a copy here as well. Unfortunately, life got in the way for me and the story was put on hold for years. Clowns or Midgets finished up this great story as I had become entangled in life. I hope you enjoy.

 _ **Chapter One**_

Bobby jerked awake in the middle of the night and sat bolt upright in bed. He didn't know what had woken him but, given the events of the last week, he doubted it was something good. He got out of bed and pulled on the robe from the back of the door.

When he got out onto the hall he saw the door to Sam and Dean's room was ajar. Sam had taken to wandering the house, searching for an unattainable something or someone, since Lucifer had banished himself to the Cage, and Bobby wondered if his wanderings had taken on a nocturnal element.

He pushed open the door and saw that both beds were empty. Puzzling over that, he went down the stairs to the study. He didn't see Dean or Sam, but the back door was open. As he crossed the room, he trod on a piece of paper. He stooped to pick it up and read the note in the familiar handwriting, his heart contracting painfully in his chest as he took in the meaning of the words.

On leaden feet, he walked out onto the back porch. What he saw there made tears prick at his eyes. Dean was standing with the horsemen's rings in his hand, staring down at the ground as though he could recall his brother back through sheer desperation.

"Dean?" he called.

Dean's knees buckled. He turned back to look at Bobby, tears streaming down his face. "He's gone, Bobby," he said in a broken voice.

Bobby crossed the distance between them and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I know. I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else to say. What could he possibly say to make it any better for Dean? His brother was gone and there was no bringing him back; no demon deals or angels. Sam had made his choice and they had to respect it.

The realization brought a lump to his throat and tears began to fall in earnest. Sam was gone. He would never talk to him again, never laugh with him, never grind his teeth in frustration at whatever damn fool mess he had gotten himself into that time. There was no coming back from this.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he said again.

Dean pushed himself to his feet and wiped the tears from his face. Bobby saw a moment of vulnerability in his surrogate son before the walls came back up and Dean closed himself off. It was like watching shutters descending over a storefront. One moment he was raw and wrought with pain, the next he was devoid of all emotion.

"At least they're together," Bobby offered.

Dean trudged up the porch steps and into the house. Bobby followed him and watched as Dean picked up the half empty bottle of whiskey from the countertop. He didn't bother with a glass; he merely uncapped the bottle and took a large swig of the amber liquid. He lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You want some?"

Bobby shook his head. Despite the fact a drink sounded damn good, he resisted the urge.

After Dean had been dragged to Hell by the hounds, Bobby had drowned his sorrow in a bottle. He hadn't thought anything of it until Dean had come back, then the disapproval in Dean's eyes had made him feel guilty. He hadn't honored Dean's life while he had been gone as he should have; he had lost himself. He would not make that mistake again. Sam was gone, they would never see him again, and Bobby was going to honor Sam's life and Lucifer's sacrifice. He was going to be strong.

"Your loss," Dean said, taking another swig.

Bobby felt like he should do something, but he didn't know what. Dean's world had just imploded; there was no comfort to be given. He lived for his brother and his brother was gone. There was no way of knowing what he would do now. Bobby knew one thing: he had to find Dean a new reason to live if he didn't want to lose his only remaining son.

Dean stumbled into the kitchen around noon. His head was pounding to the beat of his heart and his eyes stung against the bright sunlight. He took a mug from the drainer and poured himself coffee. He would have liked to lace it with whiskey, but he could feel Bobby's eyes on him from behind the desk and he didn't want an argument.

He considered getting something to eat, but his stomach rebelled at the thought, so he took his mug of coffee out to the back porch. He sank down onto the top step, stretching his legs out in front of him. Closing his eyes, he tried to hold onto the dream he'd been having before Bobby banging around in the kitchen had woken him.

It was a dream he'd had for the last seven nights, ever since Sam had gone, and it was the closest thing to comfort he'd had in that time. In his dream, he woke before Sam had a chance to leap into the Cage. It was always a different conversation, but the goal was the same, to stop Sam from taking that leap. He argued with everything he had, coming at the problem from every angle, and sometimes he reached his brother. Sometimes, Sam stayed.

A lot of the time, he didn't know who he was more angry with, Sam or himself. He had noticed that Sam seemed more engaged the last day, as if behind the vacant expression his mind was working tirelessly. He should have realized what that meant. If he had been paying more attention, he would have caught Sam before he left.

Why hadn't he taken the rings away from Sam? If he had, Sam would never have been able to leave him. That was the crux of his anger towards Sam. He'd _left_ Dean, and it wasn't death or an accident that had stolen him away, Sam had made the decision to leave. Given a choice between Dean and Lucifer, he'd chosen Lucifer, and that burned Dean. He'd done everything he could from the age of four years old to take care of Sam. He always put him first, giving him everything he had, but it wasn't enough. He'd had a lifetime with Dean and only a few months with Lucifer, but it was clear that time didn't matter when it came down to it. It hadn't been enough, Dean hadn't been enough.

He got to his feet and tossed away the dregs of his coffee. Emotion was threatening to overwhelm him again. He was sick of feeling like this. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted his brother back. There was no getting him back though. He was gone forever, and there was nothing Dean could do about it.

He put his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers over the rings he had picked up from the ground after he'd found Sam's note. He didn't know why he kept them. They only caused him pain at what they represented, but he couldn't bear to throw them away.

Bobby was waiting for him when he got back into the house. He looked at Dean expectantly and cleared his throat.

"What?" Dean asked belligerently.

"I was thinking maybe it's time to clear up Sam's stuff." He looked pointedly at the hoodie that had been left on the back of a chair.

Dean shook his head. "No."

"It's not helping either of us to have it lying around, reminding us."

Bobby didn't understand. While Sam's presence remained in the house, Dean could pretend that he was coming back. It didn't happen often, but occasionally Dean would see something of Sam's and he would forget for a second what had happened. He lived for those moments, and he wasn't about to lose them, too.

"I'm not getting rid of him," he said.

"You know that's not what I mean," Bobby said quietly. "I just think it would help us both to have it cleared away."

"No!" Dean shouted, throwing his mug at the wall. It smashed, and flecks of coffee spattered against the wall like blood.

Bobby glowered at him. "That was Karen's."

Dean spoke through gritted teeth. "You're allowed to keep her things around. Why can't I keep Sam's?"

"I'm not talking about throwing it out. We could pack it up somewhere."

Dean shook his head. He knew if he explained it to Bobby, how it helped him to have Sam's presence remain, he would understand, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. It could instigate a heart-to-heart, and Dean wanted nothing less now. He couldn't bear to open himself to that conversation and the accompanying pain.

"To hell with this," he said, grabbing the fresh bottle of whiskey from the countertop. He held it against his chest and stomped out of the door to the porch again. He thought he would find a junker that still had enough of an engine to work on and he would lose himself there for a couple of hours.

Bobby watched Dean leave the house and he sighed. Tugging off his baseball cap, he ran a hand through his thinning hair. He didn't know what to do anymore. Dean was slowly killing himself with the drink. He knew that wasn't what Sam would want to happen.

He'd read the note Sam had left, and he knew that in it he asked Dean and him to take care of each other, but Bobby didn't know how; Dean was refusing all his efforts at comfort.

He raised his eyes heavenward and spoke in a low tone. "Cas, we need to talk. I know you've got stuff going on but Dean needs you."

There was a fluttering sound and Castiel appeared in the arch between the study and kitchen. "Bobby," he said solemnly.

"Damn, Cas," Bobby said. "Where have you been?"

"I have been focused on the hunt for my Father. I believe if I find Him, our troubles would be solved. He can recall Michael from his vendetta and Lucifer will be able to return to Sam."

"It's a little late for that, Cas. Sam's gone."

Castiel stiffened. "He's dead?" There was genuine pain in his voice.

Bobby shook his head slowly. "He's gone to be with Lucifer. He opened the cage again and took a dive."

Castiel sighed and bowed his head. "I never imagined he would do that."

"None of us did. He caught us all off guard. On the last day he seemed different, and I hoped it was him coming out of it, but I was wrong."

"How is Dean?" Castiel asked.

Bobby scrubbed a hand through his beard. "He's hurting, hurting bad."

"What can I do?"

"I don't know, Cas. That's the problem, I don't think there's anything anyone but Sam can do, and Sam's…"

"Gone," Castiel finished for him. He sighed heavily. "I will speak to Dean. Perhaps I can offer him some comfort."

"You're welcome to try," Bobby said. "Maybe a fresh voice will snap him out of this. God knows, I've tried my best, but nothing gets through to him."

"Where is he?"

"He went out back. He's probably working on a junker. He's done that before."

Not wasting the time needed to walk to Dean, Castiel disappeared. Bobby got to his feet and ambled out to the yard, hoping against hope that Castiel would be able to get through to Dean where he had failed.

He was disappointed.

When he got to the garage, he found Castiel pinned against the wall with Dean's hand at his throat. He knew Castiel could break Dean's hold without thought, but the angel was allowing himself to be held there.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked, shocked.

Dean spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm dealing with a traitor!"

Bobby's mind was reeling. "Traitor?"

"Yeah, after everything, he abandoned us to take care of Sam alone."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said with the air of someone who had said this many times before and had no hope of reaching him now.

"I told you to stop saying that!" Dean growled. "I don't want your apologies. I want to know why you weren't here to stop him."

"I was searching for my Father."

"God," Dean scoffed. "How's that going?"

"I have been unable to find any sign of Him," Castiel admitted.

"Then why weren't you here?" Dean demanded. "You could have saved him. Me and Bobby had to sleep. We had our hands full all day keeping an eye on him. You don't sleep. You should have been here!"

"I thought I was acting for the best. I believed if God could return He could stop Michael. Lucifer could have returned and Sam could have been happy."

"Well that plan crapped out," Dean said. "Because of you, my brother is gone."

Castiel lifted his hand and pulled Dean's fingers away from his throat. "Even if I had been here I would not have stopped him."

Dean sputtered. "You're kidding me, right?"

Castiel shook his head. "I saw the depth of Sam's pain for myself. I would not have allowed that to continue had I had the means to stop it. You must take comfort in the fact they are together now."

"Screw that!" Dean shouted. "I want my brother back!"

Castiel looked him in the eye. "I am sorry I cannot say what you want to hear, Dean. I believe Sam is happy now, and that is what I want for him, no matter how much I will miss his company."

Dean looked to Bobby. "You feel the same way?"

Bobby took a deep breath and examined his feelings. He missed Sam, so much so that it overwhelmed him on occasion, but he believed Sam was happy now, and he wanted that for him. He wanted both his boys to be happy. It was unfortunate that the happiness of one came at the misery of another, but that was how life worked as far as Bobby could tell. Someone always had to pay the price, and this time it was Dean.

"I do," he said heavily. "I love you and Sam like my own, and I wish he could have been happy here, but he's where he's supposed to be now, with Lucifer."

Dean shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Happy with Lucifer? He could have been happy here, dammit!"

"Do you really believe that?" Bobby asked. "Because I don't. He may only have had a short time with Lucifer, but I can't say I'd ever seen him happier. We could never have made losing him right for Sam."

Dean stepped back, away from Bobby and Castiel. "I'm done with the both of you. You might be happy that Sammy's gone, but I'm not."

"We never said we were—" Bobby began but Dean cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it! I'm outta here."

He strode past Bobby and Castiel, not giving them another glance. Bobby hurried after him and reached the house just in time to have the door slammed in his face. He wrenched it open and looked around the room for Dean, but he was nowhere in sight. Castiel was there though, looking up at the ceiling. There was movement from above and after a few minutes, Dean appeared with two duffels slung over his shoulder. He grabbed Sam's hoodie from the back of the chair and held it in his fist.

"There, you don't have to be bothered by his stuff cluttering up your place anymore," he snarled.

"You know that was never what this was about," Bobby said.

Dean raised a hand, silencing him, and turned his scowl on Castiel. "You are going to stay the hell away from me. I don't care what trouble you get yourself into, I don't want to hear it."

Castiel nodded solemnly. "As you wish."

"What about me?" Bobby asked. "You want me to stay the hell away from you too?"

Dean ignored his question and dragged open the door.

"Dean!" Bobby said loudly.

Dean turned. "I'm grateful for all you've done for me and Sam, and I won't forget it, but I want you to forget me as easily as you forgot Sam. I won't be coming back here."

Bobby's heart clenched. Dean's words hurt him. He had lost one of his boys to the Cage and now he was going to lose another to his grief.

Dean strode out of the door and a moment later they heard the rumble of the Impala's engine coming to life and the squeal of tires as Dean drove out of their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

 _Dean, I know you're upset, but you need to come back. It's been two months now, and you haven't called once. I know you're going through a lot, but I need to know you're okay. Please call me._

Dean waited for Bobby's voicemail to play out and then he deleted it. Dropping the phone down onto the bed, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig. No matter how much he drank, it didn't seem like there would be enough alcohol to drown out the thrumming pain in his heart. His brother had left him, chosen someone else over him, and there was nothing he could do about it. The pain Sam's decision left in Dean's heart felt like a hole nothing could fill, nothing but having his brother back again.

He clasped his hands around the bottle and shook his head. He didn't know what he was going to do. How could he go on hunting? Should he? Part of him wanted to rage out, to destroy, but the rest of him just wanted to curl up in the dark and let the world pass by. He supposed he didn't need to know right then, all he needed to know was that he was alone and there was nothing he could do about that. Sam was gone and so was all meaning he'd had in life.

 _Dean, please listen to me. You're not alone in this. You have people that care about you, and we're worried. We can get through this together. Please call me._

Dean zipped the duffel closed and slung it over his shoulder then stepped out of the motel and into the night. The air was cool and damp, and a thunderstorm rumbled in the distance. He looked over to the horizon and sighed. He was headed straight into the storm. He walked over to the Impala and pulled open the door, tossing the duffel in before him. He started the car and pulled out of the small parking lot, heading toward the dark skies ahead. The three victims all had had their throats torn out and were drained of their blood. Textbook vampire kills. Maybe if Dean was lucky there would be a nest. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to lose.

He found the old farmhouse the reports all pointed to easy enough. It was at the end of a dirt road off the main highway. The gravel grated beneath his tires and the windshield wipers squeaked, trying to push off the drizzling rain.

He pulled to a stop in front of a white, rundown farmhouse. Its paint was chipping, and the porch rail hung haphazardly from the few nails it retained.

Dean grabbed his duffel and swung the door open, climbing from the car. He walked up toward the house, pulling his knife out as he went.

The door swung open at his touch. He stepped inside, the old floorboards squeaking under his weight. He held his breath and listened. There was a shuffling sound coming from upstairs, and he reached back, instinctively reaching for Sam, to ensure he was safe. The absence he felt made his heart twist painfully in his chest.

He set his jaw and turned his attention back to the hunt. He made his way up the stairs and toward the footsteps he could now hear. A second later, a man appeared, he smiled at Dean, tilting his head to the side. Dean could see the teeth. This was clearly a vampire. Dean clenched the knife in his hand and braced himself.

The vampire's smile fell and he charged forward, down the stairs. Dean braced his free hand against the railing and ducked as he shoved his shoulder into the man's stomach. The man twisted and rolled over Dean's back, falling down the remaining stairs. Dean spun and quickly made his way to the vampire's side. He raised the blade in his hand and quickly brought it down across the vampire's neck. Blood spilt out over the old wooden floorboards. The sight sent a rush through Dean. With blood-covered hands, Dean grabbed his duffel and headed back out into the night.

 _Dammit, Dean, stop being an idjit! I've had enough of this silent shit. Call me and let me know you're alive._

The bar was nearly empty, and the night was coming to a close for most when the door swung open and a group of men made their way inside. They wore leather vests adorned with matching patches. It was clear they were in a motorcycle gang. Dean scoffed at them as he finished his glass of whiskey.

One of the bikers turned and gave Dean an appraising look and Dean rolled his eyes. The biker scowled and nudged his friend on the shoulder.

"Hey, Jed, look at this guy," the gruff looking biker said.

The man Dean assumed to be Jed turned and looked at Dean. Dean locked gazes with him, not backing down. "You have a problem?" Dean asked.

The rest of the bikers turned at that moment and they all glared at Dean.

"Are you stupid, boy?" the bartender whispered, "Don't you know who they are?"

Dean raised a brow, looking the bikers up and down. "Looks like a bunch of leathered up pussies to me."

That did it. The group came forward as a whole and Dean jumped up from his seat. His hands curled into fists reflexively. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see the bartender slipping out the back.

Dean licked his lips and smiled. This was just what he needed: a fight, a distraction from the aching hole in his chest. He knew the odds weren't in his favor, but in a way, that fueled him more.

He slammed his fist into the jaw of the closest man, sending him reeling back. Dean charged forward, sloppy and uncaring. Soon he found himself restrained as the men took turns punching him in the gut and face. He was a bloody, lumpy mess when they finally felt like they had taught him the lesson he deserved. They let him drop to the floor and turned back to the bar, leaving Dean lying there like a pathetic waste as they hollered for the bartender to get them their drinks.

 _Hell, I don't even know if you're listening to these messages, but we need you back here. Stuff's happening and we need every hunter on the case we can get. Call me._

Dean's back strained as he hoisted the last of the bodies into the hole. He looked down at the pile of twisted limbs, his face devoid of all emotion. He dusted off his hands on his jeans and reached for the salt. Some part of him knew that he should feel bad for what he'd done, but he pushed it down. Nothing really mattered anymore. The line between good and bad was blurred, a hazy grey fog. It was getting harder and harder to see the people behind the faces, but maybe that was a good thing. It made it easier in the end.

He poured salt over the bodies and then the gasoline. He struck a match and dropped it into the hole. The bodies, innocent and not, went up in flames.

 _I know you miss Sam, hell, I do too, but hiding isn't the way to go. You need to come back here so we can work together to get past this. Please call me._

Dean ran through the dense forest, following close behind the werewolf. He'd already clipped it once and it was struggling to keep ahead. Raising the gun again, Dean took aim. He shot twice and then heard an anguished howl. The werewolf stumbled over its feet and collapsed on the ground, skidding to a halt against a tree. As Dean ran up to it, he took aim again, but he didn't aim for the heart. Instead, he shot it in the gut, wanting it to suffer, wanting it to feel some of the pain it had caused its victims. The werewolf whined in pain and then shifted forms. In its place lay a naked man, eyes pleading with Dean.

"Please. I'm sorry," he said as he gripped his bleeding stomach.

Dean narrowed his eyes. He lifted the gun up and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight through its heart.

 _I've been hearing things, Dean, there's some kind of renegade hunter out there, doing all kinds of shady stuff. Please tell me that isn't you._

The demon laughed as he tightened his grip on the woman's arms. She wriggled, trying to get free, but she only caused herself more pain.

Dean's gaze flitted between the demon and the innocent woman that it was using as a shield. There were tears in her eyes.

"Please, help me," she said through choked sobs.

The demon had already killed a mother and her three children and Dean knew if it got away, it was going to kill again. Dean adjusted his grip on his gun, swallowing thickly. He knew what he had to do.

"Put your gun down and the woman lives. It's that simple," the demon said, dragging the woman back a step. She whimpered, and a tear rolled down her cheek

"There's nothing you can do, Dean," the demon said. "I'm a killer and you, my friend, are going to let me walk free. You know why? Because you're weak. You'll let her live, so your pretty little soul can go to heaven with a good conscience."

Dean's jaw clenched, and his expression hardened. That's where you're wrong."

Dean squeezed the trigger, feeling so much and so little at the same time. No matter how detached he tried to be in that moment, he knew he would never forget that woman's face as the bullet pierced her.

The bullet traveled straight through her and into the demon, dropping them both to the floor. The woman lay gasping, clutching her chest as the demon tried to crawl away. Dean took aim at the demon and shot, again and again, until his clip was empty.

He walked over to demon and kicked it in the gut, sending blood splattering against his leg. The demon laughed, a bloody, gurgling sound. Dean grabbed the demon knife and then sank the blade into its chest, twisting the blade a little as he withdrew it.

He pushed himself to his feet and wiped the blood from his hands on his jeans with a grimace. The room was silent and when he looked over to his side, he saw that the woman was dead, blood slowly pooling on the floor around her.

 _Hey there, Mister Renegade. I've heard all about your latest escapades, and I am at a loss for words. I know Sam said to fight, but this isn't what he meant. Come back here and we can fix this._

Dean sank down on the motel bed and closed his eyes. Even though he'd showered, there was still blood on his hands, at least to his eyes. It wouldn't wash away. He rubbed his hands together and then stood, walking over to the table and grabbing the bottle of Jack. He took a long pull from the bottle. It felt good. He couldn't help but wonder how much more killing, how much more death at his hands it would take to secure his ticket to hell, but he was willing to keep going if it meant a chance to see his brother again.

 _Dean, it's been a year and a half now. I know you're hurting, I am too, but you can't shut me out. You can't keep on like this. You're going to get yourself killed._

The Arachne was dead. Dean had done his job, but there were still the victims to deal with. He walked over to the web-covered man closest to him. He knelt down in front of him and cleared the webbing from his face. It was Roy. Roy's eyes opened, and he blinked wearily. He looked relieved to see Dean. Dean took a deep breath, shaking his head. He knew there was nothing that could be done to save them. The poison was eating them alive. If one Brown Recluse could kill, there was no doubt in his mind the damage the Arachne could cause. Without another moment's hesitation, he pulled his gun out from his jacket and stood up. He pointed the gun at Roy's head.

"Dean... Please," Roy begged.

"Killing this thing saved a lot of lives. I couldn't have done it without you."

Roy's eyes went wide. "No!"

"You're a hero," Dean said as he pulled the trigger, shooting Roy in the head, splattering blood across the room. Dean turned robotically, found each of the other men, and shot them one by one. Putting them down like animals.

 _I heard about Rhode Island. What were you thinking, Dean? The police are all over this mess. You better hope you didn't leave any evidence behind. Call me._

Dean hung his head as he let the warm water wash away the blood from his hands. He watched the pink water swirl its way down the drain. He looked up at himself in the mirror. Bobby's last message was still fresh in his mind. If what he'd done in Rhode Island seemed bad, Bobby wasn't going to want to hear the details of his latest hunt.

Dean lifted his head and looked at himself in the mirror. There was dirt smeared across his brow and blood slowly wept from a gash above his eye. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the memories of the victim's screams.

His hands shook at the memories of what he'd done. He splashed some of the cool water over his face and then reached for a towel. He dried his face and then tossed the towel off to the side. He didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. The life was slowly draining out of him and he just wanted to give up.

 _Things are happening, Dean, bad things. There are all kinds of fuglys that haven't been seen out of Asia suddenly making home over here. If you come across something you haven't seen before, you haul ass out of there and call me. You need my help, Dean._

Dean stumbled in the door, shoving it closed behind him. It was late, and the hunt had gone bad. He was hurting and there was no one there to patch him up. It made him miss Sam even more. He pushed the feeling down and focused on the present. He limped over to the table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He uncapped it and took a swig, grimacing at the bite of the cheap liquor. His shoulder was out of place at the least.

He walked over to the bathroom doorway and braced himself against the frame. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his shoulder hard against the wooden frame, pushing it back into place. It resisted at first, but then snapped in with a pop. The pain sucked the breath out of him. He stood there gasping for a moment and then tested the movement in his arm. It was sore, but it worked okay still.

Sighing in relief, he walked back over to the table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Taking a swig, his thoughts drifted to Sam and he wondered what his brother would think of him now.

 _It's a bloodbath out there, Dean. Hunters are being targeted by this new nasty. We've no idea what they are other than the fact they bleed black goo, and nothing can kill them. It's not safe for you to be on your own out there. Please call me._

Dean leaned back on the bed and tilted the bottle to his lips. It was a quiet day—he hadn't found himself a new hunt—though an important one. It was two years to the day since Sam had left him, and he was hurting.

He'd made his way back to South Dakota, wanting to be close to the place he had last seen Sam, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to make the last of the journey to Bobby's. He had no doubt that Bobby would welcome him back, he'd called consistently for the last two years and left messages, but Dean couldn't face the man. He didn't blame Bobby for what had happened to Sam, nor did he really blame Castiel; the problem was him. He wasn't the same man that had walked out of the door two years ago; he had done and seen things that had changed him. Bobby would be expecting to see the old Dean, and he was long gone.

He flicked on the TV, hoping to distract himself from thoughts of his missing brother with some mind-numbing entertainment. He was ten minutes into a movie and failing miserably at distraction, when he heard a sound he hadn't thought he would ever hear again—it was the rustling sound of an angel's approach. He looked up expecting to see Castiel, but it wasn't the stoic angel standing opposite him, it was another.

"What do you want, Gabriel?" he asked belligerently.

The archangel put his hands on his hips and turned, taking in the room. "Nice place you've got here, Dean-o. It's a little moldy for my tastes, but it suits you perfectly. It goes with the whole exile thing you've got going on."

"What do you want?" Dean spoke slowly, enunciating every word.

"I want you to put that bottle down and try to act like a human for a few minutes. Do you think you can manage that?"

Dean took a long draw from the bottle of whiskey and raised his eyebrows, goading the archangel.

Gabriel sighed and pressed a hand to his temples. "Okay, perhaps acting like a human was a long shot, I can see you're long past that, but do you think you can at least put aside your woe-is-me crap for a couple of minutes?"

Dean sat up on the bed and scowled. "'Woe is me'? You do know who you're talking to, right? You know what I've lost."

"Do _you_ know who you're talking to? You aren't the only person that lost someone. My brother is gone, too."

Dean's face reddened with anger. "The brother that you didn't see for millennia because he was in the Cage since he fucked up. Don't compare what you're feeling to me. I lost Sam."

"Boohoo, my brother chose the Devil over me," Gabriel said with a sardonic smile, "and you got left behind in the big cruel world."

Dean's anger was building. Gabriel had no idea what he had lost, what had been taken from him. He didn't have anyone in his life like Sam. Gabriel's brothers were all dicks that had fought one another for eons and royally screwed the world over in the process.

He took another slug of whiskey and took a deep breath to lay down some facts to Gabriel, but the archangel cut him off.

"I am here because—and I really hate saying this—I need you. I get that you've got a lot going on with this whole pity party you've thrown yourself, but something big has happened and you're going to have to suck it up and get with the program. People need you, your friends need you."

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to focus his alcohol sodden thoughts. The mention of his friends had captured his attention. The only friends he had left were Bobby and Castiel, though he wasn't sure about the latter given the way their last meeting had ended. If Gabriel had tracked him down, it meant something had happened to them. He wasn't so absorbed in his own misery that he didn't care about them.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Not now," Gabriel said. "I've already wasted enough time searching every grungy motel in the state for your sorry ass."

"How did you know where I'd be?" Dean asked. "I thought Castiel's rib etchings blocked me from angel radar."

"Weren't you listening? I have been searching motels for you for far too long. Lucky for me, you're predictable. Where else would you be on the anniversary of your brother's grand exit? I had the state; I just needed the right motel." He tapped his foot impatiently. "So, are you coming?"

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'll come. But I'm driving. I'm done with being bounced over the globe by angels."

Gabriel snorted. "You're driving? You think I'm letting you behind the wheel when you're so soused you can't see straight. I don't think so, Dean-o. You have a nice little nap and we'll expect you in the morning."

Before Dean could saw a word in protest, Gabriel had crossed the room and pressed two fingers to his temple, sending him to sleep instantly.

 _It's been two years, Dean, and I haven't heard a word from you. Please be alive._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

For the first time in a long time, Dean slept without nightmares. When he woke, he didn't immediately understand what was different. It took a few minutes for him to work out that the something missing was the pounding pain of a hangover that had been his constant morning companion for too long to think about. He stretched and yawned, looking blearily at the clock on the wall. It was early still, just past seven, the earliest he had been awake for a while if you discounted the nights he hadn't slept at all.

He eased himself to the side of the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. It felt like there was something he should be doing, but he couldn't remember what. He got to his feet and ambled over to the kitchenette, thinking of making himself a pot of coffee, when he noticed a folded sheet of paper resting against a mug.

 _Good morning, Dean-o. Bobby has plenty of coffee, so stop dragging your heels and get your ass into that gas guzzler of a car. We're waiting for you. G._

Memories of the previous night swam through his mind and he groaned. Gabriel had been there, and Dean had agreed to go to Bobby's. The thought of it made him want to climb back into bed again to hide. If not for the fact he was worried something had happened to Bobby, he would have. Instead, he shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. He'd fallen asleep fully clothed, so he didn't have to bother dressing. He could shower at Bobby's, drama permitting. He wondered what had happened that was bad enough for an archangel to come looking for him. Knowing he wasn't going to get any answers kicking his heels, he grabbed his duffel and headed out to the car.

The motel he'd holed up in was in Watertown, a couple of hours out from Sioux Falls. He was glad of the distance as it would allow him some time to gather his thoughts. He dumped his duffel on the back seat, setting it beside Sam's. He still toted it around the country with him, as if he was hoping Sam would return one day and demand his stuff. It was a foolish hope, but Dean was often foolish these days.

As always, when he climbed in behind the wheel, his eyes slid sideways to the empty shotgun seat. Shaking off the pang of regret the sight gave him, he put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine rumbled to life, vibrating the seat slightly. He didn't bother to turn on the radio. His love of music was one of the things he had shed along with a conscience over the last couple of years. That was the old Dean, and against his better judgment, he was about to introduce Bobby to the new one.

The drive didn't last nearly long enough. All too soon he was driving through the boundaries of Bobby's salvage yard. He steered the Impala through the stacks of junkers toward the house.

It could have been any other day visiting Bobby—nothing looked like it had changed—but it was not any other day. This was Dean's return after two years self-exile. He pulled up beside the house, and rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this or if he would ever be ready. The only thing that kept him from turning the car around and driving away was the years' accumulated debt of support and affection for the man that lived inside.

They must have heard his approach, the Impala was not quiet, but to their credit no one came out to meet him. They were giving him time to come to them, and he was grateful for it. After a minute's contemplation he opened the door and climbed out of the car. On leaden feet he walked to the porch and up the steps, trying to bat away memories of the last time he was here and the way he had acted. He got to the door and raised a fist to knock and then he paused. Was he really going to do this? The answer was an easy yes. No matter how much he had changed and how little he wanted to be here, he owed Bobby.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

Bobby must have been waiting on the other side of the door, as no sooner than Dean knocked, the door swung open and Dean was faced with the grizzled hunter.

All Dean's trepidation in coming back here was because of the way _he'd_ changed over the last two years; he hadn't taken into account the fact that Bobby would change, too. Bobby was his constant in life. No matter what happened, Bobby was the same old, cantankerous man he always was. He _had_ changed though. There were physical differences, a few more lines around the eyes and more grey hairs creeping out from under his cap than before, but there was a tightness around the mouth and a glint in his eyes that spoke of other changes.

Dean had all of a few seconds to catalogue these changes before Bobby's face softened and he threw his arms wide. Stepping forward, he caught Dean in a tight embrace. Dean felt all the walls and hardness he had developed over the last two years tearing away, and he was brought back to the heartbroken man he had been when he was last here—a week after his brother removed himself from his life forever. He felt raw and exposed, and he wished for the walls to come back up before he lost control of himself completely and cried.

"Damn, boy, it's good to see you," Bobby said in a choked voice. He released him and stepped back, gripping Dean's shoulders as if he expected him to run if he didn't hold onto him. It wasn't an irrational fear. Now that Dean saw that Bobby was physically okay, he wanted to get out of there.

"You too," he said quietly.

Bobby's eyes raked over him from head to toe. "You look like hell."

Dean huffed a laugh though there was no real amusement to be had. "Thanks."

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on in. We've been waiting for you."

He walked into the house, and after taking a calming breath, Dean followed.

Inside the house, little had changed. There were still stacks of books spread about the place and there was still that unidentifiable musty scent. The desk was piled with papers and books and a half empty bottle of whiskey. On the kitchen table there was a newspaper and a cooling mug of coffee. The one thing out of place in the room was the presence of two angels. Dean had expected Gabriel—it was because of him that Dean was here after all—but he hadn't expected Castiel. He supposed it was stupid of him to have expected Castiel to abandon Bobby just because he had.

Dean stopped in his tracks at in the arch between kitchen and study and looked at Castiel who shifted, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Then he looked Dean in the eye, and suddenly, Dean was the one that was uncomfortable. It felt like the angel was seeing right through him, tallying every dissolute thing he had done since they had last seen each other and judging him for it. He broke the moment by looking down at his feet and rallying for control of his unruly emotions.

"So," Gabriel said, clapping his hands, "now our guest of honor has arrived, we can get to the important business of the day."

The atmosphere in the room changed palpably and everyone tensed.

"What's been happening?" Dean asked.

"More than you can imagine," Gabriel said. "And you missed it all." He fixed Dean with an accusatory stare.

"It's too late to change that now," Bobby interjected. "Let's get down to what actually matters here."

Gabriel frowned. "You don't think he should know what's been happening while he's been drowning in self-pity?"

Bobby shook his head curtly. "No."

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off.

"Tell me what I've missed. I want to know."

Bobby looked disappointed, but Gabriel smiled. "Well, you should be on bended knee right now, thanking my brother and Bobby for taking up the reins while you were off wallowing. Thanks to them, there is a world for you to wallow in."

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked at Bobby. "Another apocalypse?" Though his tone was calm, inside he was reeling.

"Technically," Bobby said. "Less of the end of the world, and more of the end of humanity. We went up against some high and mighty that called herself the Mother of All."

"Mother of what?" Dean asked.

"Mother of All," Castiel said quietly, as if he expected Dean to attack him if he drew attention to his presence. "She was the creator of all the monsters you have spent a lifetime fighting. She was working towards creating a paradise for monsters on earth."

Dean exhaled in a rush. "But she's dealt with?"

Gabriel clucked his tongue. "No thanks to you."

"Yeah, yeah, I screwed up," Dean said bitterly. "Get to the good stuff. This 'Mother of all' is gone now, right?"

"She is," Bobby said. "We took her out a few weeks ago."

"So, what's the problem?" Dean asked.

"What's the problem!" Gabriel's voice rose to a shout. "You arrogant asshole! The problem is that your friends almost died to take care of it. They had to shimmy back in time and almost got stuck there, but none of that matters to you. I guess. Mr. Dean I-just-want-my-brother-back Winchester had more important things going on. How many times did Bobby call you and you ignore him? How many voicemails from your _friend_ did you delete?"

Dean bristled angrily. "That's for me and Bobby to talk over. It has nothing to do with you, Gabriel. You obviously dragged me back here for a reason, so get it over with and tell me what it is."

Though Dean tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but notice how Bobby looked down at the floor as he spoke. He guessed it was the mention of how he had been dragged back. There was no hiding it though; he wouldn't be here if not for Gabriel's impromptu arrival.

"Things are happening," Bobby said. "There's a new monster out there, a big scary one that's targeting hunters. I needed to know you were safe."

"That's why _he_ called you back," Gabriel said. "I, on the other hand, don't care if you're safe. I just want you to do your job."

Dean ignored him completely and turned to Bobby. "Tell me about the new fugly."

Bobby turned to Gabriel. "You want to fill him in on the angels and demons side of the story."

Gabriel sighed dramatically. "Okay. Here's the thing. After Lucifer took his dive into the cage, there was uproar in Heaven. Before I returned, there were two archangels running things, Michael and Raphael. They were both working towards a solid goal—the battle between Michael and Lucifer."

"And the resulting apocalypse," Dean said angrily.

Gabriel ignored him. "After dear Luci took the dive, things got a little heated up there. There was no more battle. Boy, Michael was pissed. Raphael and Michael fought, not epic end of the world fighting, an archangel slap fight if you will. They both wanted to rule over the other. Michael was the prime candidate, as the eldest, but Raphael had a lot of support. Heaven was divided, and Raphael came to earth."

"He fell?" Dean asked. "Like Lucifer did?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No. He followed in my footsteps and went into witness protection, or at least I thought he did. There was no sign of him for over a year. Michael ruled Heaven and all was good for a while. What we didn't know was that, while he was hiding, Raphael was plotting. He was in league with a demon by the name of Crowley."

"Crowley?" Dean said. "What would an archangel want with a crossroads demon."

"They made a deal," Gabriel said simply. "And he's not so much a crossroads demon now as he is King of Hell. Apparently, since Lucifer went back into the cage he stopped caring about the day to day running of Hell, leaving a vacuum in the hierarchy of the place. Crowley stepped up."

"You're telling me that Crowley, the limey bastard that sent me after Lucifer with a gun that didn't work, is the new Devil?"

Gabriel shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Pretty much. None of that is really important anymore. What matters is the deal."

Dean pulled a seat from beside the table and sat down, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Tell me about the deal then."

"Well, Raphael knew that he would never win a fair fight against Michael. He didn't want to be cast out as Lucifer was, so he made his deal with Crowley. Between them, the goal was to open the gate to Purgatory and split the souls fifty-fifty."

"Purgatory is the place where monsters' souls go after death," Bobby said seeing Dean's confusion. "Like heaven for fuglys."

"Anyhoo, they had to find Purgatory first, which meant they were tracking down alphas and torturing the location out of them." Gabriel sighed heavily as Dean opened his mouth to ask a question. "An alpha is the first of its kind—the first vampire, the first skinwalker. You get the idea?"

Dean nodded. "So, I'm guessing they found Purgatory."

"Indeed, they did, and they cracked it open like punching a hole in plasterboard. Raphael didn't play fair though. He didn't ante up fifty-percent of the souls, or even forty. He kept them all for himself. He absorbed every soul on offer, and summarily exploded Michael."

Dean leaned forward in his seat. "You telling me Michael's dead."

Gabriel nodded somberly.

Dean jumped to his feet and punched the air. "Hell yeah!" he shouted. "Ding-dong, the dick is dead."

One moment Dean was looking around the room, grinning, and the next he was pinned against the wall with Gabriel's hand around his throat.

"That's my family you're talking about!" Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

Dean nodded as much as he was able to given his predicament, not betraying any fear. "Yeah, and your _family_ is the reason mine is in Hell. Your dick brother forced Lucifer to take that dive."

Gabriel smiled cruelly. "True. But no one made Sam follow. It must burn you to know he cared more for Lucifer after only a few months of his company that you after a lifetime."

Dean clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together. Gabriel had hit him where he was most raw, and the archangel knew it.

"Now, now," Bobby said stepping forward. "I don't care who's an archangel, you're in my house, and when you're in my house, you don't go attacking each other."

Gabriel released Dean and looked at Bobby. "I apologize."

Bobby nodded to him. "You want to finish your story or shall I take it up?"

"I can do it," Gabriel said. "So, with Michael dead, Raphael was ruling Heaven, chock full of souls. He liked the power they gave him over humans and angels, and he flaunted it. Unfortunately, he didn't take into account the way the souls were affecting him. On one of his jaunts through earth, the souls overpowered him, and he perished."

"So, both Raphael and Michael are dead?" Dean asked, trying to keep any of his happiness from his tone. He didn't want to be pinned to a wall again.

Gabriel bowed his head. "They are."

"The problem," Bobby said carefully, "is that when Raphael… uh… exploded he released a bunch of fuglys into the world. It's these fuglys that are attacking hunters. They're called Leviathans."

"What's a Leviathan?" Dean asked.

"A badass monster," Bobby said. "So far we've had no luck taking them out. I've shot one full of silver pellets at point-blank range, and the thing grinned and kept on coming. We've not found any way to hurt them even a little."

Gabriel looked up and his smile had returned. "So here we are. Up against something even I have never seen before, and without a clue how to kill it."

"And you called me back, why?" Dean asked.

"I told you, I wanted you safe," Bobby said.

"And I told you, I don't care," Gabriel said. "What I do want however is for you to amp up that killing streak of your and take out the nasties."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Dean asked. "You just said you've not found a way of hurting them. What can I do?"

Gabriel tutted and leaned against the wall. "How did you kill Azazel? How did you go up against Lucifer with The Colt? How did you beat down every other fugly you have ever come against? You put your mind to it and you do it. I don't know if you even realize the power you have Dean. You're a human. You should be insignificant, but you're not. Somehow you come out on top every time, and I need you to put that insane luck to the test again. You need to come up with a way to win for us, because we're all out of ideas."

Dean laughed. He laughed so hard his gut ached and tears ran down his face. He vaguely heard Castiel asking Bobby if he was okay, which just made him laugh harder than before. What did they expect him to do, magic an answer out of his butt? They were all missing one salient fact.

"It's not me you want," he said, choking himself to calm again. "You've got it all wrong. I'm not some kind of lucky charm for defeating monsters. I'm just Dean."

"But you're not," Gabriel said. "You have done it before."

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes and sniffed loudly. "You're wrong. I'm not that person, not anymore. Maybe I was once, but now I'm missing something vital. Someone."

Gabriel tilted his head to the side. "Your brother?"

Dean nodded. "I can't do any of those things alone. Sam is the one you need. He's the reason I was able to do any of that stuff."

"So, if you had your brother back, you would be able to help us?"

" _We_ would," Dean said. "We work as a team. That's how it's always been. But unless you're telling me you can bring Sam back…" He shrugged. "I may as well go back to my motel."

Gabriel huffed. "You want your brother back, you can have him back, you dumbass."

Dean merely looked at him blankly.

"You have the rings still, don't you?"

Dean nodded. They were in his pocket, where they had been for the last two years. The last physical thing his brother had touched.

"Then let's go get him back," Gabriel said.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

"Bring him back?" Dean asked breathlessly.

"Sure," Gabriel said. "You say you need Sam, we'll get you Sam."

Dean's mind reeled. The thought of having his brother back made him feel the first glimpse of happiness in over two years. No sooner than he recognized the lightness in his chest for what it was, it evaporated.

"We can't. That would be cruel. Sam gave up everything to be with Lucifer. We can't tear them apart now." It took a lot for Dean to say it. He wanted Sam back more than anything. He hated the thought of him in Hell forever, but he had to respect his brother's choices. Sam had chosen Hell and Lucifer.

"Boy, are you dumb," Gabriel said. "We don't need to tear them apart. We can bring them _both_ back, With Michael out of the picture, Lucifer is free to roam again. We don't even need to worry about that pesky apocalypse, as your brother tamed him."

Dean's eyes widened, and his heart sped as the realization reached him. He could have Sam back. They could be together again. Things would finally be right.

"You just need to hand over those pretty keys and I'll pop down and grab our brothers."

Dean's hand moved to his pocket, but Bobby cleared his throat, drawing Dean's attention. "What?" he asked.

Bobby looked uncomfortable. "I'm playing Devil's advocate here, but should we really do this?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Dean asked, as far as he was concerned this was the answer to their prayers.

"Because Sam chose Lucifer and Hell."

"Yes, Bobby, Hell," Dean said. "I don't know about you, but the idea of Sam spending forever there isn't exactly a nice thought. You might not want him back, but I do."

"I want him back!" Bobby bristled. "But I'm thinking of what he wants. Besides, Hell for Sam and Lucifer isn't what it was like for you. Cas, tell him what you told me."

Dean turned to Castiel. "Well?"

"Lucifer is in command over the Cage. It may be called a cage, but that doesn't mean Sam is behind bars. The Cage is whatever Lucifer wants it to be, and with Sam in mind, it wouldn't be a bad place."

"What my brother is trying to say is that Sam and Lucifer could be attending a county fair right now, riding on the tilt-a-whirl and eating cotton candy. Whatever Lucifer wants, he gets, and that goes for the Cage too."

Dean tried to wrap his mind around that. When he'd imagined Sam in the Cage, it was always some version of the Hell he'd experienced. He knew Sam wouldn't have suffered the torture he had, but he figured it was still not a nice place to be. The Cage under Lucifer's command sounded like...

"It's their Heaven," Castiel said. "Whatever they want it to be."

This revelation threw a wrench into the works slightly. Dean wanted his brother back, and that had been an easy choice when he thought Sam was in his Hell, but the thought of dragging him out of some kind of Heaven wasn't tempting. It seemed cruel. Cruel enough to stop him? He wasn't sure.

"And we'd be dragging him back to this nightmare of a world," Bobby said. "mid-battle, facing a monster none of us have seen before, and one that we have no idea how to kill. It just doesn't seem right."

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck and said the words he knew would reveal to Bobby just how much he had changed from the man he'd once known, "Right or not, we're doing this. I'm bringing my brother back." He turned to Gabriel. "What do I have to do?"

"You, cupcake, nothing but hand over the rings. This is an angel mission, I'm afraid. It's more than a matter of opening the cage and shouting down for them to come out with their hands up. Someone has to go down there and retrieve them."

Dean put his hand in his pocket and brought out the rings. He weighed them in his palm for a moment, reluctant to give them up. He had to hand them over though; they were the only thing that would bring his brother back. Gabriel stretched out a hand, and Dean let the rings fall onto his palm.

"Okay then," Gabriel said cheerfully. "A quick dive into Hell coming up. You know, never done anything like this before." He looked excited at the prospect.

"So, what happens now?" Bobby asked. "You just fly down there and scoop them up?"

Gabriel tapped his foot. "In a word, no. I'll have to get their agreement. I can't drag them out of there kicking and screaming. Lucifer's wrath would be devastating to the planet."

"You've got to get their permission?" Dean asked.

"Pretty much. I don't see that being a problem though. After all, you Winchesters are all about sacrificing yourself for each other."

Dean didn't like the sound of the sacrifice part, but coward that he was, he didn't ask. If it got Sam back, it was worth it.

Gabriel cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Best get on with it then. Any preference on where we pop them out?"

"The closer the better," Dean said, impatient now the time of reunion was upon them.

"But not too close," Bobby said. "I don't want my house tilting into the hole in the ground. How about you go out by the back woods?"

Gabriel nodded. "Got it, no home destruction. Who's coming with me?"

"I am," Dean said immediately.

"I think me and Cas should hang back here," Bobby said. "We don't want to overwhelm them."

Gabriel nodded. "We'll be right back."

Dean followed him out of the house and across the yard toward the woods that bordered Bobby's land.

"Can I ask you something, Dean-o?" Gabriel asked, sounding more amiable than he had since he'd found Dean in his motel.

"I'm an Aquarius," Dean said.

Gabriel chucked. "Yes, you are. But that wasn't what I was going to ask."

"What do you want to know?"

"You've had the rings all this time, and you've been half killing yourself because you didn't have your brother with you, so why didn't you open the Cage yourself?"

"Because I didn't know the magic words," Dean said quickly. "I wasn't there when Sam or Lucifer took the dive, so I didn't hear what they said to open it."

"And you couldn't have found out some other way." Gabriel said skeptically.

"I don't think Bobby's got any books on how to open a direct passage to the Cage."

That was half of the truth. Dean didn't know the words and he doubted Bobby's library would have given him the answer, but he could have found out if he really wanted to. The reason he didn't open the Cage and go in himself was because he wasn't sure Sam would have wanted him. He'd left Dean behind to be with Lucifer. If he'd wanted him there too, he would have asked.

He would never admit that shameful doubt to Gabriel though, so he merely sped his pace toward the woods.

Gabriel caught his arm halfway across the grass clearing. "This should be far enough away to satisfy Mr. Singer."

Dean nodded. His heart was racing in his chest. He was close now, so close to seeing Sam again.

Gabriel tossed the rings down onto the grass and rolled his shoulders. "Here goes nothing." He chanted words in what Dean recognized as Enochian and a swirling vortex appeared where the rings had lain. Gabriel stepped up to the edge and balanced on the balls of his feet like a diver on the board.

"Wish me luck!" he shouted over the roar of the portal, and then he stretched his arms out in front of him and dived gracefully into the pit.

Sam leaned back on his elbows and enjoyed the sensation of the sinking sun's warmth on his face. It was late, at least Lucifer had decided it should be late now, and things were winding down for the day. Not that the cage really had days. It was endless. Lucifer ensured that there was a constant 'daily' sunrise and sunset to mark the time for Sam, though.

At the moment, Lucifer was standing on the shore with the waves crashing around his ankles. Sam was enjoying the view, but missing Lucifer's absence at his side. It was always that way for him; Lucifer could never be close enough to him.

As if he had heard Sam's thought, Lucifer turned and smiled. With long strides, he made his way back to Sam and dropped down on the sand beside him. He leaned in close and their lips met in a chaste kiss. Lucifer smiled against him, and Sam sighed contentedly.

"Are you happy?" Lucifer asked.

Sam leaned back. "Where did that come from?"

Lucifer toyed with a thread on the white shirt he was wearing. "Yesterday was an important day, Sam. I waited for you to mention it, but you didn't, and I didn't want to push."

"It was?"

Lucifer smiled indulgently. "It was. Yesterday was the anniversary of you coming to me here."

Sam sat up, his mind taking in the information. He lost track of time here; it was easy to do. Though he hadn't marked the days he'd been in the cage, it felt like he'd been there an eternity.

"So, are you happy?" Lucifer asked.

Sam considered the question carefully. His immediate response was to reassure Lucifer that he was happy, but they had sworn never to lie to one another, and he wanted to answer honestly.

There were things that should have made him unhappy, such as the absence of his brother. Sam wasn't sure how much time had passed on earth. More than once, he had wondered if his brother was even still alive. So much time could have passed that he could have gone naturally, or if he stayed a hunter he could have been taken before his time. He missed Dean with a longing that was almost painful, but he had made peace with the fact he would never see him again. It was the sacrifice demanded of him when he chose to be with Lucifer.

"I am happy," he said. "I am happy with you."

"But?" Lucifer probed, knowing Sam was hiding something.

"I miss my brother," he admitted.

"Do you regret your choice to be here?"

"Never," Sam said immediately. "I love Dean, I truly do, but it's not the same. I know Dean can live without me, but I couldn't live without you. Do _you_ regret my choice?"

Lucifer traced a hand over Sam's face, smoothing his furrowed brow.

"Never. I would never regret you being here for me. My only fear is that _you_ would come to regret it. I cannot explain the joy I felt seeing you again after my fall. Knowing you sacrificed everything you held dear to be with me again is an expression of love beyond words. I wish I could repay it. There was so much I wanted to give you, so much I wanted to show you, but circumstances were against us."

"You've shown me plenty," Sam said. "You've taught me so much. You shared everything. You taught me everything. You've given me so much."

"Except the one thing you truly need," Lucifer said. "Your family."

Sam sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I miss them, all of them: Dean and Bobby and Cas. But here I'm at peace. I never had that on earth. I was always out of my element there. I've done terrible things, but none of that matters here. There is only you and me."

Lucifer leaned over him, and Sam allowed himself to be pushed back to lie on the sand. Lucifer's mouth moved against him, trailing down his throat and across his collarbone. Sam relaxed into his touch, and his eyes slid closed.

Suddenly, there was a thudding sound, and Lucifer froze. Sam's eyes snapped open in time to see Lucifer jump to his feet and stand protectively in front of him with his arms spread wide, his angel blade in his hand.

Sam sprung to his feet and stood behind Lucifer, his every sense on alert. This had never happened before. No one had come into the cage. No one _could_ come into the cage. The demons all congregated in the other levels of Hell.

"Hey, bro, nice digs."

Sam relaxed infinitesimally. He knew that voice, though why Gabriel would have come to them here he didn't know. Lucifer did not relax. He remained standing with his arms extended.

"Gabriel," he said stiffly.

Sam peered around Lucifer's shoulder and saw Gabriel kicking off his shoes and wiggling his toes. "I love the sand," he said. "Really, Lucifer, great craftsmanship."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"I came for a visit. Did you miss me?"

"Not remotely." Sam had no affection for Gabriel. He had done too much damage in Sam's life for him to ever be able to ingratiate himself.

"Why are you here?" Lucifer asked.

Gabriel sighed dramatically. "I come with tidings."

Sam's throat tightened. The last time Gabriel had come with 'tidings' it had been the news that Michael was coming for Lucifer. Sam wasn't stupid enough to think that this time things were going to be good. Something big had to have happened for Gabriel to make the journey.

"Is it..." Sam cleared his throat. "Is it Dean?" For all his thoughts of acceptance minutes ago, now faced with the possibility of Dean's death he wasn't sure he could bear it.

"It is and it isn't," Gabriel said, easing none of Sam's fear. "He's alive if that's what you're worried about."

Sam exhaled in a rush. "But he's not okay?"

"None of us are," Gabriel said.

"Speak plainly or don't speak at all," Lucifer snapped.

Gabriel became solemn. "Michael is dead."

Lucifer drew in a sharp breath. His shoulders stiffened, and he stood up straight. "How?" Sam could hear the pain in his voice.

Sam stepped around Lucifer's open arms and laid a hand on his shoulder in a silent show of support. He didn't give a crap about Michael's death personally, in fact, he wanted to punch the air, but Lucifer was hurting, and his pain was Sam's. If Lucifer felt even a fraction of bond to Michael that Sam felt to Dean, then his pain had to be immeasurable.

"Raphael slayed him."

Lucifer's brow furrowed. "I don't understand. Michael was our greatest warrior."

"It's a long story," Gabriel said. "But suffice to say, you missed a lot. I'll fill you in later. Right now, you're needed topside."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Topside? As in go back?"

Gabriel gave him an approving nod. "Correct. Back to the land of Starbucks and air pollution. You think the earth was screwed when you left, the last two years have been... well, hell."

"Two years? That's it?" Sam asked.

"What were you expecting, twinkle toes? You know Hell time works different to earth time."

Sam shrugged. "It felt longer."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Well, I can promise that Dean's not walking with a cane. In fact, physically, he's pretty much the same."

"Let's get back to the matter at hand," Lucifer said. "Michael is dead and you want us to return to earth?"

Gabriel nodded, seeming pleased that Lucifer was catching on so quickly.

"What are you hiding, Gabriel?" Lucifer asked.

"Like I said, the last two years have been hell."

"And by that you mean?"

Gabriel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, you remember Daddy's first dalliances with creation?"

Sam sucked in a breath. "Leviathans?"

Gabriel tilted his head to the side and smirked. "I see it's not been all frolicking on beaches down here. Lucifer's been teaching you."

Lucifer nodded. "Everything I know."

"Well, look at you," Gabriel said. "Sam Winchester has become the new hunter's compendium. You're going to be very useful."

"You're assuming we're going to come," Lucifer said. "What makes you think I will risk Sam like that?"

Gabriel smiled. "The fact he will ask you to. His bro is in all kinds of trouble; Sam won't leave him to fight alone."

Lucifer visibly sagged, but Sam barely noticed. He was more concerned with the trouble Dean was apparently in. "What's happened to him?" he demanded.

"As of right now, nothing a shower and shave won't fix. But the Leviathans are out there, and they're coming after hunters. Dean needs you."

"That's enough," Lucifer snapped, turning away from Gabriel and looking imploringly at Sam. "We can't do this. It's not safe."

"What's the danger?" Sam asked.

"You risked everything coming here, Sam," Lucifer said. "The cage was not created for humanity. You are lucky your time through the portal didn't destroy you. We cannot risk it again."

"You're saying coming here could have killed me?" Sam asked.

"Worse. It could have destroyed your mind and soul." Lucifer said solemnly. "And leaving would put you at risk again. I cannot allow that."

Sam shook his head. "We've got no choice. If Dean needs me, I have to go."

For the first time since Sam arrived in the cage, Lucifer looked unhappy, more than that, he looked angry. "You could die!"

"I could, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try."

Lucifer raked a hand through his hair.

"You don't have to come," Sam said, though it hurt him to say it. "Gabriel will take me if you won't."

Gabriel nodded. "I sure will, kiddo."

Lucifer turned away from them and stared out at the ocean. After a minute's silent contemplation, he turned back to Sam. "Please don't do this."

"I have no choice, Lucifer," Sam said softly. "It's Dean."

Lucifer stepped forward and pulled Sam into a tight embrace. He gripped the back of Sam's neck and clung to him.

"It's going to be okay," Sam whispered. "I'll be fine."

Lucifer leaned back and held Sam's face in his hands. "I love you," he said heatedly.

Sam knew what Lucifer was really saying was goodbye, but he wasn't scared. He would make it through this. He had to. Dean needed him.

"Are you coming?" Sam asked him.

"Do you really need to ask?"

Sam smiled. "Thank you." He turned to Gabriel. "We're ready. What do we have to do?"

"All you have to do is hold on tight and try not to wipeout," Gabriel said lightly.

Lucifer wrapped his arms around Sam and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I won't let you go, Sam."

Sam closed his eyes and waited. He heard a sound like vast sails in the wind, and then his feet left the sand. There was a loud cracking sound, and then everything went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

White light shot up into the sky and Dean was pushed back by an irresistible force. He stumbled and tripped, falling to the floor.

He had seen this light before, just after Sam had killed Lilith and freed Lucifer.

There was a loud cracking sound that reverberated in Dean's chest like a second heartbeat. His eyes roved the scene, searching for a sign of Sam. Out of the white light came three figures, two standing and one being cradled in the arms of another. He knew immediately who the fallen figure was.

"Sam!"

Pushing himself to numb legs, he started towards his brother, but Gabriel rushed forward and caught him before he could reach them. "Give them a moment," he said.

Dean struggled against the hands restraining him. He wanted to be with Sam. He had to know he was okay.

"Dean!" Gabriel said harshly. "Wait!"

Dean ignored Gabriel's words, but he couldn't ignore the strong grip the archangel had on his arm. It pinned him in place. He was forced to remain still, watching as Lucifer eased Sam to the ground holding his upper body against his chest. Lucifer placed two fingers to Sam's throat, and then dropped his hand, pressing his forehead to Sam's.

Dean's heart hovered somewhere around his Adam's apple as he watched Lucifer. Was Sam...?

"What the hell's happening?" he demanded. "What's wrong with him?"

Gabriel ignored his question and turned to Lucifer, his face taut with tension. "Lucifer?"

"He's alive," Lucifer said, his tone heavy with relief.

"He's alive!" Dean choked on the words, relief flooding through him. "And why the hell wouldn't he be? What's happened to him?"

His mind was reeling. He had pinned everything on this chance to see his brother again, but it was all going horribly wrong. Sam was alive but unconscious. The fact that was in question at all made Dean's heart race. This was not how it was supposed to go.

Lucifer disregarded him completely. With care, he eased his arms under Sam again and rose to his feet, cradling Sam against his chest. Sam's head lolled back over Lucifer's arm. His eyes were closed, and his face was devoid of all emotion. Dean hated the sight, but he couldn't look away. Lucifer strode past Dean and Gabriel, walking towards the house.

Dean struggled against Gabriel's hold, and the archangel released him. "Give them their space," he warned.

Lucifer and Sam were almost at the house. Dean jogged after them and hurried ahead to open the door for them. Lucifer didn't pay him a moment's attention as he walked through the door, and he continued to ignore Dean when he hurried in after him, keeping his eyes fixed on Sam.

"What's wrong with him?" Bobby asked breathlessly as he caught sight of Sam.

Lucifer ignored him as completely as he had Dean. He walked through the study and into the lounge. With exceptional care, he eased Sam onto the couch, positioning a cushion under his head. He looked down at Sam with such tenderness that Dean felt that he was intruding on something private. He watched as Lucifer smoothed a hand over Sam's face and then got to his feet. He advanced on Dean with a murderous look in his eyes. Dean was not ashamed to admit that he was afraid.

"He's alive," Lucifer said, "no thanks to you two." He shoved Dean's shoulders hard.

"What did I do?" Dean asked, genuinely confused.

"You dragged him back here," Lucifer growled. "Against all that was right and fair."

"I didn't know it was going to hurt him."

Lucifer turned to Gabriel who nodded. "He didn't know. I didn't tell them."

Lucifer's glare left Dean and fixed on Gabriel. "You didn't?"

Gabriel shrugged. "It never came up."

Lucifer threw up his arms, and Dean was forced back a few paces.

"You didn't tell him!" Lucifer roared. "Did you tell any of them what could have happened, or was this purely your selfishness, Gabriel?"

"I did what had to be done," Gabriel said, folding his arms across his chest. "Dean needed Sam to function, and the world needs them both."

"The world!" Lucifer scoffed. "You think I care about the world when this has placed the one person I value in all of creation at risk? What does the world matter to us anymore? Sam was happy. We were happy. You have dragged him back here to this pit to fight your battles for you. Tell me, Dean, would it have made any difference to you to know what could have happened? Were you so caught up in your own problems that your brother's wants and desires were forgotten?"

"Would what have made any difference?" Dean asked. He was feeling distinctly out of the loop. "I'm still lost here. What's happened to Sam?"

"He has undergone great trial," Lucifer said. "He should not have been able to pass through the portal once and survive. He has beaten all the odds and come through a second time intact."

Gabriel's brow creased. "Intact, Lucifer?"

Lucifer sighed and raked a hand over his face. "I do not know. I have healed his body from the damage of the journey, his mind however, I do not know. We will not be certain until he wakes."

"If he wakes," Gabriel said pointedly.

Lucifer's hands fisted at his sides.

"Hold up!" Bobby said, moving into the room and looking down at Sam. "How's about you slow this down so the humans can get caught up. Sam coming through the portal could have killed him, but he's alive?"

Even hearing the question asked was hard. Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Lucifer nodded coldly. "He lives. Be grateful for it."

Dean nodded. "But what's this about him not waking up? Tell me I didn't get my brother back just to lose him again." There was a hint of desperation in his voice. "Please."

"Sam has paid a great price to return to you," Lucifer said. "No human should have to suffer the portal. There is no knowing what damage has been done to him."

Dean's mind reeled. It felt like his world was imploding. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to protect Sam, not hurt him. He had thought Sam coming out of the cage was the answer to all his prayers, now it seemed the nightmare was just beginning. Why hadn't Gabriel told him? Why hadn't he asked?

But in his most secret of hearts, Dean wondered if knowing would have changed anything. He had jumped at the chance of having his brother back, even knowing he was pulling him from a place of peace with the angel he loved back to the post-apocalyptic nightmare he had inhabited for two years. Would knowing have really stopped him?

Shaking his head and dispelling his guilty thoughts, Dean addressed Lucifer. "Is he going to be okay?"

"I do not know," Lucifer said. "As I have said, Sam has undergone tremendous trial passing through the portal. His soul suffered. I do not know how he will react when he wakes up. If he wakes up."

"Why did you let him come?" Dean asked. "If it was so dangerous for him, why didn't you stop him?"

Lucifer stiffened. "Do you think I had a choice? Once Sam knew you needed him, he was immovable. He would have come back with or without me, even though he knew the risks."

Dean felt immeasurable guilt sweeping through him. Sam had known what it could cost him, but he had done it anyway because Dean needed him. If he never came back from this, as Lucifer and Gabriel seemed to think was a possibility, it would all be Dean's fault.

"You!" Lucifer spat at Dean and Gabriel. "This is all because of you both. Trust me when I say if Sam doesn't come out of this, I will make sure you both suffer for it before being given the release of death."

Dean knew there was nothing empty about this threat. Lucifer meant every word he said.

"This is not the time, Lucifer," Gabriel said in a soft tone. "Tend to Sam."

Lucifer dropped to his knees beside the couch again and pressed his forehead to Sam's. He began to whisper to Sam. Dean wasn't sure he should be listening, but after a moment, he realized it didn't matter. Lucifer was speaking Enochian, and Dean didn't understand a word of it.

Dean felt someone tugging on his arm, and he turned to see Gabriel. "Come on, let's give them some space."

Dean didn't want to leave his brother, but Gabriel was insistent. He dragged Dean into the study again and directed him to a chair. Dean sank down onto it, feeling as if all his strength had passed out of him.

"Gabriel," Dean said in a hopeless voice. "Is he going to be okay?"

Gabriel sighed. "I don't know. I hope so."

"Don't you worry, Dean," Bobby said in a bracing tone. "Sam wouldn't have come all this way just to give up now. He'll be fine."

Dean tried to take comfort in the words, but it wasn't easy. He had seen the ugly side of the world, he had become part of it, and he couldn't help but think this would be his punishment for all the things he had done since Sam had left him. It would be fitting for him to get his brother back physically, only to lose him mentally.

Sam was poised between sleeping and waking, being and failing. If he were to err on either side, he would be lost.

All his senses had left him; all he had was disembodied thought. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, it was quite peaceful, but there was a nagging feeling that there was something he should be doing, something important.

He scrabbled through his memories, trying to find a clue to what had happened to him. He remembered being in the cage with Lucifer. Had he fallen asleep? No, that couldn't be it. There was no sleep in the cage. He had no need of sleep there, as he wasn't entirely alive. So, what had happened? He cast his mind back further. Lucifer had been teaching him about the hierarchies of Hell and the creation of demons when the sun had begun to sink, a sure sign that Lucifer thought he'd studied enough for one session. They had been on the beach, just enjoying each other when...

Gabriel! He had come to ask them to leave. Something had happened, and they were needed on earth. Dean needed them.

With thoughts of his brother came a new urgency. Sam struggled against the bonds holding him in place. He could feel now, though his limbs felt heavy and clumsy. He was lying on some lumpy surface and his head was pillowed on something soft. Cool fingers traced across his face and ran through his hair. It was a pleasant sensation, and he would have been content to lie there and enjoy it if not for the urgency attached to his memories.

Sound returned to him, and he heard a soft voice talking to him in Enochian. It was soothing him and begging him to return in the same breath. He knew that voice, it was his angel, and once again, he was calling him home.

His eyes rolled in his sockets as he tried to force open his weighted lids.

Lucifer must have seen the movement, as his pleading became more impassioned. "Sam, come back to me. Please. I need you."

Sam's eyes cracked open, and Lucifer's face came into view. There was tightness around his eyes and his mouth was a thin line, belying his fear. Sam blinked and tried to focus, looking around the room. The walls were off white and there were shelves of books lining them. That combined with the familiar scent of whiskey, old spice and musty books made him realize they were at Bobby's.

When he spoke, he was surprised that it was in a hoarse whisper. "We made it then."

Lucifer's face broke into a wide smile, as if he wasn't sure Sam was okay until he spoke. "I thought I'd lost you."

Sam smiled. "You didn't."

Lucifer leaned forwards and pressed a searing kiss to Sam's lips. There were a dozen unsaid things in the kiss; it spoke of fear and relief, absence and reunion.

Sam would have been content to stay lost with Lucifer forever, again, but there was something pressing on his mind, someone. When Lucifer pulled back, he asked, "Where's Dean?"

Lucifer's bright smile faded, and Sam's heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"He's okay, isn't he?"

"He is fine, and he is close," Lucifer said reassuringly. "They are giving us privacy."

Sam pushed himself to a sitting position and immediately regretted the action. It made his head swim and pound.

"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked as Sam gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, just a headache."

Lucifer frowned. "I have healed you as much as I am able. The passage through the portal greatly damaged you."

Sam felt that it should have some effect on him, to hear how he'd been damaged, but it didn't. He was alive, speaking and moving without too much difficulty. It was better than he'd expected. Hell, he hadn't truly believed he would make it out at all; he'd just known he had to try. Whatever aches and pains he had now seemed a small price to pay for his return.

It felt strange to be feeling those aches though. He hadn't been truly human for so long. He had been beyond pain and tiredness and stress. He had been in his own form of Heaven.

"What are you thinking?" Lucifer asked.

Sam smiled. It was a familiar question, though it had become less asked as the years passed. Lucifer had grown to understand Sam in a way that was beyond words, and he had become an expert at reading Sam's facial expressions and moods without either of them needing to verbalize it.

"I was thinking that it feels strange to be here again. Everything feels new." And though he didn't say it, Sam thought that everything also felt a little raw. Light was too bright and sounds too loud.

Lucifer tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. "You have essentially been reborn. I imagine a newborn baby experiences the same sensations, they are just unable to tell you."

Sam nodded and looked longingly at the door that led to the study. Dean was there, maybe Bobby and Castiel, too. He wanted to see them so badly it was a physical longing, but at the same time, he was nervous. He had effectively abandoned them all to be with Lucifer. Would there be repercussions from that. Did Dean even want him back? Gabriel said Dean needed him, and that alone would have been hard for Dean to admit, but wanting and needing were two different things.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Lucifer asked.

Sam smiled. "I've come all this way, risked so much, it would be rude to ignore him now."

Lucifer looked into his eyes for a long moment, searching for something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it. He nodded and helped Sam get to his feet.

He stepped ahead of Sam and opened the door. Moving on trembling legs, Sam crossed the room and entered the library.

His eyes scanned the room, searching for his brother. He found him sitting by the desk on a hard chair. Dean got to his feet as he caught sight of Sam, and for a moment, they stared at each other in silence.

Dean looked different. His eyes were hard and circled by dark shadows. There were lines on his brow that hadn't been there two years ago. The corners of his mouth were turned down, but as Sam took a shaky step forward, they curved into a smile.

"Sammy?"

They walked forward in unison, arms open wide ready to receive the other. At the center, they met and each threw their arms around the other. Dean gripped the back of Sam's shirt tight, and his exhale was a little shaky. Sam patted his back gently, and relished in the comfort of having his brother in his arms again after so long.

Far too soon for Sam's liking, Dean pulled back and looked Sam in the eye. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

Dean nodded. "I am now." There was so much hidden meaning in that simple sentence that Sam didn't know where to start deciphering it all. He knew he had a lot to make amends for, but in that moment, Dean seemed happy to see him, and that was worth all the risk to make it back here.

He heard someone clearing their throat, and he looked around to see Bobby, who he hadn't noticed before then, standing beside him. He smiled widely, taking in the sight of the grizzled hunter and savoring it. "Hey, Bobby,"

Bobby stepped forward and pulled him into a hug that knocked all the air out of him. He felt Lucifer shifting uncomfortably behind him, and he tried, through a simple nod, to show that he was okay.

"Damn, boy, it's good to see you," Bobby said, releasing him.

Sam grinned. "You, too." He turned to take in the room, and then the breath was knocked out of him as another figure stepped forward and threw their arms around him.

"You, too, Cas," he said, patting the angel's back, feeling a little embarrassed by this uncharacteristic show of affection.

Castiel released Sam and moved back to stand by the wall once again. He looked a little embarrassed, too.

Lucifer linked hands with Sam and led him back, so they were standing against the wall. Everyone in the room seemed tense and awkward after the aberrant shows of affection. Sam rallied for something to say to break the moment, and he stumbled upon his latest show of his returned humanity.

"You got anything to eat? I'm starving."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

"There you go, son, enjoy," Bobby said, presenting the sandwich he had made to Sam with flourish.

Sam flashed his familiar grin and took a bite. "It's good," he said around a mouthful of ham and salad.

Dean wondered if Sam was uncomfortable under their scrutiny. He felt that if he looked away Sam might disappear or worse. The others in the room apparently echoed his thoughts, as Sam was being watched as if he was a particularly interesting television show.

Of all Sam's observers, there was one that stood out; Lucifer was leaning against the wall opposite where Sam sat at the table, and he was fixing Sam with a penetrating stare. It was odd. Before they had... gone, Lucifer had been attentive to Sam, but now it was more intense, as if he was keeping him alive and present by his gaze alone. For his part, Sam didn't seem concerned by it. He just munched his sandwich and shared occasional gooey-eyed looks with Lucifer.

"So," Bobby said, sitting down at the table between Sam and Dean, "what happens next?"

Sam swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with a swig of beer. "I guess we've got stuff to sort out. We need to get a motel room." He looked down at his chest. "And I definitely need to get some clothes. I can't stay in my PJ's."

Dean noticed for the first time what Sam was dressed in. He was wearing the white t-shirt and sweats that he'd been wearing the last time Dean saw him, and Lucifer was wearing the only clothes Dean had ever seen him wearing. He wondered at the fact they had held up as long as they had in Hell time, and that set his thoughts on a path that led to Lucifer and Sam frolicking around au naturel. That was an extremely disturbing image, and he shook his head to dispel the thoughts.

He cleared his throat. "I've still got all your stuff, Sam. It's in the car."

Sam grinned. "Thanks, man."

To Dean's great relief, he didn't question him about why he had all his stuff in the car when by all normal rational thought, he could never have expected to see him again. Dean didn't offer up the information, nor did he mention the fact it had taken him a year of being on the road alone before he stopped booking into a twin room at each motel. There were just some things he hadn't been ready to part with.

"It's weird to think about this stuff again," Sam said musingly, "motels and clothes."

Lucifer nodded understandingly, but Dean frowned. It had only been two years after all. His whole life before the Cage had been motels and clothes, why was it suddenly something new for him to consider? Then he realized that it had been a lot longer for Sam. He wasn't sure if time in the Cage moved the same way it had in Hell for Dean, but if it did, Sam had been gone for over two hundred years! Two centuries without his brother. He had barely survived two years without Sam, but Sam didn't seem to have any trouble being away from Dean for that long. He sucked in a breath.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked.

He forced a smile, as if there was nothing on his mind other than the miracle of his brother's return. "Yeah, I'm fine."

They fell into companionable silence as Sam finished his sandwich. When he was done, he pushed his plate away. After sharing a glance with Lucifer, he cleared his throat. "So, what did we miss?" The atmosphere in the room changed from quiet celebration to tension. Sam looked from person to person, reacting to the change. "What?"

Bobby coughed awkwardly. "Well, me and Cas have been trying to keep down on the big nasties. We came across a super-fugly called Eve, but she's long gone."

"Mother of All, Eve?" Sam asked.

Bobby's eyes widened with shock, but Lucifer looked satisfied. Dean was confused. How did Sam know about Eve when Dean hadn't heard of her until that morning? Castiel looked like he was solving some complicated math problem in his head, and then he nodded, apparently coming to some realization.

"Yeah, her," Bobby said. "How did you know?"

Lucifer leaned away from the wall, and with the air of a proud father sharing his kid's SAT score, he said, "I have been teaching Sam."

Castiel looked as if his assumption had been confirmed and Bobby nodded. "I guess that gives you one up on the rest of us mere mortals.

Sam looked uncomfortable. "How did you take her out?"

"Phoenix ash," Bobby said proudly. "We had to jump back to 1861. It was a hell of a ride."

Sam turned to Dean, smiling widely. "You must have loved that—Genuine cowboy land."

Dean mentally cursed Bobby for dropping him in it. He was going to have to explain to Sam that he hadn't been there for that hunt, or any over the last two years. Sam was going to be pissed about it.

He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "I missed out on that particular ride. I've been going solo for the past couple of years."

As he had expected, Sam's eyes widened, and he stared at Dean with such intensity that Dean averted his gaze. Before Sam could demand more information, Lucifer spoke up. "Where is Raphael?"

Gabriel spoke up for the first time. "He's gone, Lucifer."

Lucifer stiffened, and Sam got to his feet to stand beside him. He tangled his fingers with Lucifer's, and Dean noticed that the archangel softened under his touch.

"He has fallen?" Lucifer asked.

Gabriel shook his head. "Not exactly. It's more that he exploded his vessel and disappeared. I have no idea what happened to him."

"Then I shall find him," Lucifer said. "He will not escape what he has done to Michael."

Dean thought it was odd that Lucifer was bothered by Michael's death when he was the one that had repeatedly pounded on Lucifer, forcing him to go back to the cage even though he had given up the apocalypse and was making a life with Sam. He guessed that was the way with family though. He looked across the kitchen at his own brother and he thought he understood. There was nothing Sam could do that would make him give up on him, and he'd certainly tested that over the years.

Gabriel coughed lightly. "I think perhaps it's time for you to come home, Lucifer."

Lucifer turned stunned eyes on Gabriel. "Heaven?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Where else could I mean? You have been gone long enough; it is time for you to return."

"I was exiled," Lucifer said bitterly.

"By Michael. Newsflash, Lucifer, Michael is dead. He can't do anything to you anymore. You are free to come home, now, and boy are you needed. Dad's AWOL, and I am trying to deal with it all alone. I haven't exactly been there for the garrisons over the years. They are not warming to my return."

"And I have? I have not been in Heaven in millennia. I am _the_ fallen angel. You think the garrisons are going to have any reason to listen to me?"

"You underestimate yourself," Gabriel said. "You have proven yourself to them all through Sam. They have seen what you gave up for the good of the planet and they respect you for it. You have more sway with them than I do at the moment. You're needed, Lucifer. Heaven is in tatters."

Lucifer looked at Sam, and they seemed to be communicating silently.

"I think you should go," Sam said eventually. "They need you."

"You need me," Lucifer said.

"Always," Sam replied. "But Gabriel is right; it's time for you to go home. Heaven needs you."

Dean could see that it cost Sam a lot to say it. He didn't want Lucifer to go anymore than Lucifer wanted to leave him, but they were both acting for the good of others. Again. It didn't seem possible that Lucifer, the Devil, and Sam, the one that allowed his vendetta to start the apocalypse, were the ones acting for everyone else right now.

He immediately felt guilty for his unkind thoughts, especially when Sam and Lucifer were right there, preparing to part for the good of the world once again, but he couldn't wholly dispel them.

Lucifer was silent for a long time, and then he brought Sam's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. "Walk with me?"

Sam nodded, and with hands entwined, they walked out of the house.

Dean had to remind himself that Sam would be back to stop him from demanding that Sam not leave him again. He felt disconcerted by this new neediness. He had never been like this before with Sam. Hell, he'd managed the years apart when Sam was at Stanford. Now he was turning into a paranoid mother hen, worried that Sam was going to disappear again.

Lucifer led Sam out of the house and through the junkers to the grass area bordering Bobby's property. He bent down and picked something up off the ground. When he straightened and held out his hand, Sam saw that he was holding the horsemen's rings. This must be where the portal had been opened.

"I don't think it's a good idea for these to be left lying around," Lucifer said, handing them to Sam.

Sam nodded. "We can put them in a curse box."

"And below angel warding."

"Then you and Gabriel won't be able to get them."

"Nor will Raphael," Lucifer said.

Sam frowned. The idea of a rogue archangel running amok was frightening. He thought of the damage Lucifer had done as the Devil, and he shuddered.

Lucifer cupped Sam's cheek in his hand. "You do not need to be afraid. I will protect you from Raphael."

"I'm not scared for myself," Sam said. "It's the world I'm worried about."

Lucifer smiled. "You do not need to worry. Raphael never had my ambition. He will not be able to wreak as much havoc as I did."

"That's something, I guess."

Sam put the rings in his pocket and took Lucifer's hand again. Lucifer sat down on the ground and patted the grass beside him. Sam sank down and sat with his head resting on Lucifer's shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment until Lucifer spoke softly, resting his cheek against Sam's crown.

"I don't want to leave you."

Sam sighed. "And I don't want you to go, but I think it's important that you do. Heaven is your home and you have been away long enough. It's time you went back. You're needed there."

"It feels wrong," Lucifer said. "

"Because of your Father." It wasn't a question, Sam knew Lucifer well enough to know what was really troubling him.

Lucifer sighed. "He ordered Michael to cast me out. He wouldn't want me to go back."

"He left though," Sam said. "He abandoned Heaven and us all. Even the apocalypse wasn't enough to bring Him back. The way I see it, He doesn't have the right to want anything anymore."

Lucifer ran his fingers through Sam's hair gently. "And yet I am reluctant to go."

"What's really stopping you?" Sam asked. He knew it was more than Lucifer's fear of an absent father.

Lucifer was quiet for a long time as he considered Sam's question. Sam didn't rush him; he let him come to the answer in his own time.

"I don't want to leave you," he said finally.

Sam shifted so he could see Lucifer's face. There was tension there, and something Sam hadn't seen in a long time, not since the day Dean had come to the hotel armed with the Colt: fear.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked.

"I'm afraid of losing you."

Sam smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you are," Lucifer said desperately. "Don't you see? You are mortal again, Sam. The cage was timeless. We would have been together there forever, now you are doomed."

Sam hadn't given his returned mortality much thought, just like he hadn't considered his eternal nature in the cage. All he had thought of then was the fact he had Lucifer with him, now he had both his angel _and_ his brother. Life was about as good as it could get, and if it came for a limited time only... well, that was life. He was human after all; a time limit was part of the package.

He knew it was selfish, but one of the greatest things about being in love with an angel was knowing he was eternal. Time would never change Lucifer, and he would never die of old age. Sam could love him his whole life. Lucifer was the one that was going to have to say goodbye and live on alone.

"I'm human, Lucifer," he said gently. "Death is a part of life."

Lucifer frowned. "Not for me. If I return to Heaven, I will miss vital minutes of your life."

Sam stretched out on the grass and turned his face up to the sun. "We've been spoiled. We had all those years just the two of us, and it was great, but we've got to learn to share our time again. You need to give some time to Gabriel and Heaven, and I definitely need to give time to Dean. He needs me. I've got a lot to make up to him."

Lucifer frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I was very selfish, leaving them him the way I did. At the time, all I could think about was you. I didn't consider how it would affect the people I left behind. I left them to fight a continuing war, and they did, but it has left scars. Bobby and Cas don't seem so bad, but Dean..." He shook his head.

"There is something very different about him. I noticed it too. Do not be alarmed," Lucifer said, seeing Sam's raised eyebrows. "He is physically well, but he is changed somehow."

"Yeah, and I think it's my fault. I've got to make it right with him."

"How do you plan to do that?"

Sam sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. "I have no idea."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

The bed beside his was empty when Dean woke the next morning. Not only was it empty, but it was neatly made with hospital corners as only his brother would bother with. It seemed some things didn't change, which was comforting in a way as so much else had.

He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He needed a shave and a shower. He felt grimy. He hadn't bothered the day before as there had been so much else going on. After Sam and Lucifer had taken their walk together, Lucifer and Gabriel had left, and Dean had wanted to be there for Sam. Against what he had expected, Sam hadn't been overly emotional about Lucifer's absence. He had seemed to take it all in his stride, throwing himself into making dinner with Bobby. Dean guessed that after two centuries of only each other's company, it was good to have a little space.

He got up and padded through the hall into the bathroom. He set the shower to running and examined his reflection in the mirror. He had aged over the past two years; sadness and anger had etched their lines onto his face. He saw the changes in himself and he wondered what Sam made of them. For his part, Sam hadn't changed at all. He was exactly the same as he was the day he'd thrown himself in the pit, physically at least—it was the rest that Dean wasn't sure about.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was showered and shaved, and making his way down the stairs. He heard a snatch of Bobby and Sam's conversation, and he guessed they were catching up on what Sam had missed.

"You met Samuel Colt? _The_ Samuel Colt?"

"Yep, and he was a grumpy old man." Dean could hear the smile in Bobby's voice as he answered.

"Reminds me of someone."

"You watch it, boy. You may be freshly sprung from Hell but that won't stop me taking my boot to your ass."

Dean thought it was time he made an appearance. He walked into the study to see Sam's head thrown back with laughter and Bobby sporting a grin. Even Castiel looked amused. It was an idyllic scene of his ragtag family, and it made him feel like an outsider. Sam had slotted back into their lives as if he'd never gone, but Dean couldn't do that—too much had changed in him.

Sam caught sight of Dean standing at the door and he grinned. "Hey, Dean."

Dean nodded and moved across the room into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

"Bobby has been filling me in on the last couple years," Sam said, showing no sign that he'd noticed Dean's dour mood. "Alphas, Eve, Leviathans, you must have been swamped out there."

Dean didn't know as much as he'd like about how Bobby and Castiel had spent the last two years. He would have to get Bobby to fill him in soon, otherwise Sam was going to work out just how distant Dean had become from his family while he was gone.

Thinking redirection was the way to go, he grabbed his coffee and sat on the couch beside Sam. "So, did Bobby fill you in on the Leviathans while you were catching up?"

Bobby shook his head. "We didn't get there yet."

Dean smiled. It seemed he was completely surplus to requirements after all. "Well, from what Bobby tells me, they're the nastiest fugly we've come up against. He shot one full of silver pellets and it smiled and kept on coming. We haven't found a way to hurt them even a little." Nobody pointed out the false note of the 'we' in that sentence and Dean was grateful for it.

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "They can eat each other, but I don't see them doing that this time."

Dean realized that his little speech on Leviathans was old news to Sam and he felt stupid. Lucifer said he'd been teaching Sam, and apparently that included a rundown on the Leviathans.

"So, that's what we know," he said stiffly. "How about you fill us in on what you know about them."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, and his ready smile faded. "I don't know anything else about taking them out, but I do know where they came from."

Bobby leaned forward in his seat. "Don't leave us hanging, fill us in."

Sam took a deep breath. "They are among God's first creations. They came before humans and monsters, and even angels." He looked to Castiel who nodded. "They're the reason God created Purgatory. He realized that they would destroy any other creature He could create, so He made Purgatory and trapped them in there."

"They would destroy any creature?" Bobby asked. "Does that mean they can kill angels?"

Sam looked apologetic. "I don't know. They've never come up against each other, before now that is."

Castiel cleared his throat. "It seems we are working with an even playing field for once. I am as fallible as a human."

"Maybe," Bobby said. "Let's not test the theory. No more using yourself as bait, Cas. We've kept you alive these past couple of years; we're not going to lose you now."

Castiel smiled at Bobby and a moment of communication passed between them. Dean realized that there was something else he had missed while off on his own. Circumstances had pushed Bobby and Castiel together, and they seemed to have a strong bond of friendship now. With Sam and Lucifer, and now Bobby and Castiel, he felt on the fringes more than ever.

"What's on the agenda for today?" he asked, pushing away his bitter thoughts.

"I need to get a motel," Sam said. "Not that I don't appreciate you letting me stay here, Bobby, but I need a place for when Lucifer comes back."

"I can take you by the Valley Inn," Bobby offered. "If you're going to be staying there, you're going to need a car. Do you want to take the Chevelle?"

"You don't mind?" Sam asked.

"Nah, it's no trouble. I can use the truck if I need to get around. It's hardly used anyway since I have angel express here bouncing me about." He gestured to Castiel who smiled.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam said, smiling widely.

"You want to go now?" Bobby asked.

"Sure." Sam downed the dregs of his coffee and set the mug in the sink. "You coming, Dean?"

"Nah, I've got some stuff to take care of here."

"Cas?" Bobby asked.

Castiel shook his head. "I will stay here with Dean."

Bobby grabbed the truck keys from the counter and he and Sam disappeared out of the door.

Dean finished his own coffee and went out to the yard. Bobby's Chevelle was parked beside the garage. With some quick maneuvering, he had it parked in the service bay and the hood open. He pulled out a tray of tools and set to work on tuning it up. If Bobby had been using Castiel to jump him around the planet, there was no knowing when it had last been serviced.

He was deep in the engine when he heard a soft cough as someone cleared their throat. Knowing it was Castiel and not wanting to have that particular conversation, he didn't raise his head. "Something you need, Cas?"

"I would like to talk to you," the angel said.

Dean sighed. "I'm a little busy right now. Can I catch you later?"

"It would be better to speak now before Sam returns."

That made Dean pull his head out of the engine and look at Castiel. "What's wrong?"

"I would like to talk to you about our last parting, and I do not believe you would want Sam to overhear."

Dean looked the angel over, and he realized it wasn't just him that had changed these past two years. Castiel was expressing more self-awareness than he had ever managed under Dean's tutelage.

He wiped his oily hands on a dirty rag and surveyed Castiel. He saw the steely glint in his eyes, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to divert him from this conversation. The time when a glare from Dean would be enough to silence the angel was gone, unfortunately.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Dean admitted. "I shouldn't have blamed you for what Sam did. It was down to him, not you."

Castiel nodded serenely. "I know."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Lucifer said passing through the portal could have destroyed Sam the first time. Did you know?"

Castiel frowned. "Do you think I would not have told you had I known?"

Dean shrugged. "I figured you were protecting me. It was bad enough that Sam was gone, but knowing what could have happened to him trying to get there…" It would have been so much worse. Dean had comforted himself with the knowledge that Sam was with the man he loved. The thought that he hadn't been would have stolen any solace Dean had.

"I did not know," Castiel said. "I knew little of the Cage other than what I already told you about Lucifer being in command over his surroundings. I did not even know the power of the rings until Gabriel told us. That was a secret shared by the archangels alone."

"Okay." Dean rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. What he had to say next was awkward and he would rather not say it, but he owed Castiel. "Thanks for taking care of Bobby when I was away."

Castiel frowned. "I was merely doing my job. You taught me that friends do not abandon one another, and Bobby is my friend."

"I should have been there, too." Dean said. "I shouldn't have just abandoned you both."

"Perhaps that is true. Know this though, Bobby never once blamed you for the choices you made. It upset him that he could not contact you and he worried, but he never once blamed you. You were lost without your brother. Now he has returned, things will be better."

Dean nodded distractedly and returned his attention to the Chevelle. His face was calm, but his mind was busy.

An hour later, Dean heard the rumble of the truck's engine coming toward the house. He and Castiel had been working on the Chevelle's engine—or more accurately, Dean had been working on the engine while Castiel questioned him about the purpose of each tool he was using. It hadn't been a bad way to pass the time, and Dean was slightly disappointed that it had to come to an end.

He ambled into the house and washed his hands at the kitchen sink. He was just drying them on a cloth when Bobby and Sam came in.

"You get everything sorted?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Our old room was free, which was cool, so I got that."

Dean patted his pockets and pulled out his wallet. "You're going to need money, aren't you?"

"No, I'm good."

Dean frowned. It wasn't Bobby's responsibility to pay their way.

Sam caught Dean's scowl, and he shook his head. "I guess you didn't go into my duffel once I was gone. Trust me, I'm good for cash. Lucifer fleeced the demons he was exorcising, and we made out pretty good."

"How good?" Dean asked.

"We can lay off the credit card scams for a while."

Dean absorbed that information. It would be good not to worry about cash for a while, and he knew it would ease Sam's conscience to not need to run the scams, but he didn't much like living on Lucifer's gains like some kind of kept man.

"I was thinking we could look for a hunt," Sam said, oblivious to Dean's discomfort.

"You sure you're ready for that?" Dean asked. "You only got back yesterday, and there's the whole 'the portal could destroy you' thing. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam said. "Nothing wrong with me. Lucifer healed it all?"

Dean wondered about the soul aspect of the damage. Sam seemed okay, but that wasn't a guarantee he was okay—he had seemed fine when he was sucking down demon blood, too.

"If you're sure," he said.

"I'm sure." Sam settled at the kitchen table and pulled his laptop towards him.

Dean sat opposite and waited for Sam to start their routine of announcing details to pick a case. He didn't have long to wait, but he was disappointed that there was only one case apparently available.

"Demons in Iowa," Sam said, turning the laptop so Dean could see. "Their weather is going haywire with signs."

Dean cracked his knuckles. "Demons sound like fun. You want to head out today?"

"Sure. There's no point waiting around," Sam said, snapping the laptop closed and getting to his feet. "Cas, Bobby, you want in?"

Bobby looked up from the book he was reading. "Do you need us?"

Dean scoffed. "I think we can handle a demon or two. We've got the knife."

"Then you boys go have some fun. Me and Cas will keep the home fires burning."

It was odd for Dean to hear Castiel being lumped in with Bobby as a team. Castiel had always been there with him and Sam. He figured it was only right, though, seeing as they had been fighting as a team for years without him.

Sam bounded up the stairs and came back a minute later with their duffels. "Ready?"

Dean nodded and after saying their goodbyes to Bobby and Castiel, they headed out to the Impala.

Sam ran his hand over the hood of the car and his smile grew. "I've missed this."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I can give you two a moment alone if you like."

Sam laughed. "Not just the car, the whole thing. We're heading out on a hunt together. I missed that."

"Yeah, me too."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

The bar was busy, musty, and Sam's usual idea of a nightmare, but tonight he was enjoying himself. He was back on the road with his brother, he had a beer, and Dean was smiling. Life was good.

He sat back in his booth and allowed his eyes to skim his surroundings—hunter's habit—and he saw something at the door to make his day even better. Two people had just walked in the door, and they were people Sam was very pleased to see.

He nudged Dean. "Look who it is."

Dean looked up from the darts game he'd been watching, and grinned. "I'll be damned."

The pair at the door noticed Sam and Dean at that moment, and their mouths parted with shock. They weaved through the crowd toward Sam and Dean's table.

Sam stood to greet them. "Ellen, Jo."

"Sam!" Jo looked at him as if she was seeing a ghost. "But how are you…? We heard…"

Dean chuckled. "Tell me about it."

Jo threw her arms around Sam and hugged him tight. "It's good to see you."

Sam patted her back. "You too."

Ellen stepped forward and raised a hand. Sam flinched—Ellen was known for occasional bouts of violence—but she just patted his cheek gently. "Good to have you back."

Sam sat down and scooted along the booth, so Jo and Ellen could sit with them.

"So, Sam, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you topside again, but how did you escape?" Ellen asked.

"It wasn't so much an escape as it was a call back," Sam said. "We heard what was happening up here, and so we came to help."

"We as in you and the Devil?" Jo asked, snagging Dean's beer bottle and taking a sip.

"Lucifer, yes," Sam said calmly.

"That's for real, too, then," Ellen said. "Not Bobby's ramblings. You've really hooked up with the Devil."

"Lucifer," Sam said patiently. "And yes. We're together."

Ellen blew out a breath. "You Winchesters sure like to keep things interesting."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Don't go blaming me. It's Sammy that's gone off the reservation."

Sam frowned at him. "You know it's not like that."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said.

Sam was hurt by Dean's words. He thought Dean had accepted Lucifer. It had seemed like it at least. Now it sounded like he had reverted to the same incredulous attitude he'd had in the days immediately following Detroit.

"Drinks!" Dean said suddenly. "What can I get you?"

"We'll take a beer apiece," Ellen said.

Dean stood and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Be right back."

Ellen watched him go and then she turned to Sam. "So, where's _Lucifer_ now?" She laid emphasis on the name, making Sam realize that they weren't going to accept him anytime soon.

"Heaven."

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Granted it's been a while since I went to Sunday school, but I thought he was exiled from Heaven."

"He was," Sam said, "by his brother, Michael. Michael's dead though, so there's nothing stopping Lucifer from going back. He and another archangel are up there, fixing the mess."

"What mess?" Jo asked.

Sam didn't answer. He was watching Dean. He had retrieved their drinks, and had been crossing the bar when he bumped into a man. He wasn't big, smaller than Dean, but he was facing off with Dean, and he was apparently lacking in the survival instinct, as Dean was glaring at him as if deciding where to start pounding on him.

Sam rose to his feet and crossed the bar toward his brother in time to hear Dean saying, "Watch where you're walking."

The man stiffened and opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off.

"We don't want any trouble."

"That's a real shame." The man blinked, and when his eyes opened, they were onyx black. "Because trouble's what I'm all about. Sammy Winchester, I heard you took a page out of the Winchester family vacation plan and took a trip downstairs."

"I'm back," Sam said through gritted teeth.

Dean reached into his pocket, where the demon killing knife was concealed, but Sam caught his arm. "Not in here, Dean."

"Yeah, _Dean,_ not in here," the demon said scornfully. "Besides, the boss wouldn't like it. We've got strict orders we can't even break for you. As much as I'd like to."

The barman ambled over to them then, looking like he expected trouble and wasn't afraid to quell it. "Now, now, fellas, take it outside."

The demon nodded sycophantically. "Yes, sir." He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, looking back at Sam and Dean, who had now been joined by Ellen and Jo. They followed the demon out of the door and into an alley.

"Hello, Ladies," he leered, catching sight of Ellen and Jo. He looked around the alley and grinned. "No Devil's traps to hold me. What are you going to do now?"

"What did you mean strict orders?" Sam asked. "Whose orders?"

The demon grinned. "The new boss. We've got strict rules to work with now. No more operating in the open, we're strictly working on the—"

The demon was cut off as Dean lunged forward and slit its throat with the knife.

"What the hell, Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean wasn't listening though. He was plunging the knife into the demon again and again. Blood pooled around the corpse, making the air stink of sulphur.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed him around the chest and dragged him bodily back. "That's enough!"

He didn't know what had possessed his brother to act like that. There was killing a demon and there was pounding into one like a madman, and Sam knew exactly which category his brother fell into.

"We've got to get out of here," Ellen said, grabbing Jo's arm and dragging her out of the alley. "You boys, too. Pack up your stuff and get the hell out of dodge."

Sam nodded, still holding Dean's arm. Dean was panting heavily and staring down at the demon. With a deep breath, he seemed to come back to himself, and he pulled from Sam's grasp.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked.

"Hunting."

"We don't hunt like that!"

Dean shrugged. "I do. Let's get gone."

Sam nodded, staring at his brother. He didn't know what had just happened, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. He was going to sit Dean down and find out what he was thinking, but first they had to get out of the alley before the police arrived.

They got back to Bobby's place in the early hours of the morning. Ellen and Jo had caught up with them in Mason City, and they remained on their tail all the way into Sioux Falls.

Sam had tried to broach the topic of what had happened in the alley a couple of times, but Dean had refused to talk. He knew he had let his temper get out of hand with the demon, but it had felt good to be able to take some of his frustrations out on the evil son of a bitch. There was one less demon in the world now, and as far as he was concerned, that was his job.

As soon as they pulled up in front of Bobby's place, Sam climbed out of the car and strode into the house, letting the door swing shut behind him. He was clearly pissed, and Dean felt bad. He didn't want to fight with his brother, but he couldn't face a heart-to-heart about how he had changed, especially not the way he hunted.

When he got inside, Sam was standing at the sink, downing a glass of water. He turned as Dean came in and set the glass down on the drainer. "You ready to talk about it?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about."

Sam shrugged. "In that case, I'm going back to the motel. I'll catch you tomorrow."

"Sam…" Dean didn't want his brother to leave pissed. Hell, he didn't want him to leave at all.

"Whenever you're ready, Dean. By the way, Bobby and Cas have a hunt. They left a note."

Dean picked up the note and read it through. There had been freaky deaths in Indiana, and they'd gone to check it out.

Sam grabbed the Chevelle's key from the side table and disappeared out of the door. Dean heard another car pulling up by the house and he knew Jo and Ellen had arrived. Raking a hand through his hair, he prepared himself for a second interrogation.

Jo was first in the door, and she looked dead on her feet.

"Sam's staying in a motel for the night," Dean said. "You and your mom can take our room. I'll crash on the couch."

She nodded gratefully and, swinging a bag over her shoulder, she disappeared up the stairs.

Thinking a drink might be a good idea, Dean rinsed Sam's glass and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

"Pour me one of them," Ellen said, coming through the door.

Dean did as she had bidden and then sat down at the kitchen table. Ellen picked up her glass and sat down beside him.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked.

Dean shook his head. "Not even a little."

"Tough luck. You and I are long overdue for a chat."

Dean sighed. "No disrespect, Ellen, but I'm tired. I just want to crash."

"Sure you do," she said. "So, you can lie there, not sleeping, going over how big you screwed up today."

"I sleep just fine," he said doggedly.

"Who are you kidding? You haven't slept right for two years. Not since you took off on your own and went rogue. "

"What do you know about it?" Dean asked belligerently.

"I've seen plenty of hunters go down that path you went down. It's a dark place. It doesn't end with long nights of restful sleep."

Dean knocked back his glass of whiskey and stood to refill it.

Ellen caught his arm. "You can talk to me, Dean."

Dean stared out the window at the dark scrap-yard. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I call bullshit. What about what you've been doing? You made quite a name for yourself these past couple of years."

"I've been doing my job, Ellen."

"Since when did your job include killing people?" She asked. "We kill monsters, not humans."

Dean's hands fisted at his sides. "I did what I had to do. Sure, there were some innocents caught in the crossfire, but I helped more than I hurt."

"Is that what you're going to tell Sam when he asks?"

Dean glared at her. "I'm not telling Sam anything. He doesn't need to know."

"He deserves to know. It's all down to him, isn't it? He's the reason you went off the rails, because he up and left you. And while we're on the subject, why the hell didn't you call us when he was taken? We could have helped."

Dean laughed sardonically. "You could have helped! You think you could have gone up against Lucifer and lived? No one could have helped; that was the problem."

Ellen sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "You got him back though."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, but it cost him his life. Sam took a bullet to the chest. Lucifer saved him, not me."

"Lucifer saved Sam?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, basically. He brought him back to life anyway."

"Why?"

"Because he loves him," Dean said impatiently. "Him and Sam, it's the real deal."

"And that makes up for the fact he's the Devil?" she asked, a frown creasing her brow.

"He's different now," Dean said. "I didn't want to believe it myself, but he is. He took himself out of the running for the sake of the world, for the sake of Sam."

"Does that cancel all the damage he did before that, too? I was there in Colorado. I watched people die because of War. That was all down to Lucifer. Saving one life doesn't wipe away all that blood."

"Tell me about it." Dean was thinking of all the blood that had accumulated on his hands. There was no washing it clean. The only reprieve he had was the fact Sam didn't know about it. He would do almost anything to stop Sam learning just how far he'd gone after he had left him.

"I get that you love your brother, but what Sam's doing with Lucifer doesn't fly with me," Ellen said, breaking into his thoughts. "I know your daddy raised you better."

Dean scowled. "What am I supposed to do? You didn't see what it did to him when they were separated. Sam barely lasted a week before he took the dive. I got my brother back, which is a miracle. Having Lucifer back too is the price we pay."

"Is it a price you're ready for the world to pay?" she asked.

Dean pushed away from the counter where he had been leaning. "He's different now, Ellen. Whether you want to believe it or not, Lucifer is on our side. I'm saying this to you and any other hunters you come into contact with from here on out: Lucifer is one of us now. You want him, you got to go through me."

"Hunters won't stand for this, Dean."

"Then I suggest you don't tell them."

"I don't like this."

"Neither did I at first. Just give him a chance. Lucifer might surprise you."

Ellen was silent for a long time then she spoke up in a defeated tone. "Fine, but don't be inviting me for supper when he's here."

Dean smiled wanly. "Gotcha. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the couch. I have some insomnia that I've been neglecting."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

That night Sam's dreams were fragmented and upsetting. He dreamed he was back in the alley, watching Dean killing the demon. In the dream, when he dragged Dean away, it was Lucifer laying on the ground, peppered with stab wounds.

When Sam woke, his breath came in pants and his heart raced.

He raked a hand over his face, trying to calm himself, but it was no use. There was only one thing that could calm him. He raised his eyes heavenward and called to his angel. "Lucifer, are you there? I need you. I'm in our old room."

He closed his eyes and waited for a full second before there was a rustling sound and he felt a second presence in the room. The bed dipped as Lucifer sat down, and Sam opened his eyes.

He sighed with relief as he saw Lucifer alive and well, although looking concerned, sitting beside him.

"What's happened?" Lucifer asked, reaching over and brushing the hair out of Sam's eyes.

Sam leaned into his touch. "Nightmare."

Lucifer shifted so he was sitting back on the bed, resting against the headboard, and Sam rested his head on Lucifer's shoulder. Lucifer continued to run his hands through Sam's hair, calming his racing heart and making him feel sleepy again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucifer asked softly.

Sam took a deep breath and recounted his nightmare, making no attempt to hide just how much it had affected him.

"I am fine," Lucifer said reassuringly.

"I know, and I know Dean would never hurt you, but the dream was so real."

"I understand humans set great store by their dreams. Do you think something in particular triggered it?"

"We took a hunt, a demon, and Dean got a little carried away taking it out." He raked a hand over his face. "Okay, he got a lot carried away. He just kept stabbing it, Lucifer, even though it was dead. I have never seen him like that before. There was something missing in him; his eyes were dead. He wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "He wasn't Dean. Not the Dean I know anyway."

Lucifer was silent for a long moment. "I do not think you need to worry."

Sam turned so he could look Lucifer in the eyes. "What are you hiding from me?" He knew Lucifer well enough to know there was something he wasn't saying. After all their years together, there was little Lucifer could hide from him.

Lucifer's mouth twisted into a grimace. "There are things you should know about your brother, but I am not the one to tell you. That information must come from Dean."

Sam's heart contracted painfully in his chest. "He's okay, right"

Lucifer trailed his hands over Sam's cheek. "He is physically well. You do not need to be concerned."

"But mentally?" Sam probed.

Lucifer sighed. "This is not for me to say. I am sorry, Sam, but it's not my place to share what I know. That would be a gross betrayal to your brother."

Sam knew there was no budging Lucifer. He was resolved not to tell Sam any more than he already had. It frustrated him, but he didn't push for more. If Lucifer thought it was important that Dean tell him these things, he would wait for Dean to tell him, no matter how frustrating it was for him.

"How are things going for you?" he asked.

Lucifer stretched his arms out above his head and then pulled Sam against his side once again. "Heaven is... different. The way that it once was is gone. Now there are factions and vendettas. Raphael and Michael's followers are still opposing each other and me."

"Is it hard for you to be home?"

"It is exceptionally hard. I want to be with you more than anything, but something keeps me there."

Sam laid his hand on Lucifer's chest. "Duty?"

Lucifer interlaced his fingers with Sam's and for a moment all was silent as they both watched their hands rise and fall with Lucifer's breaths. "No, not duty. You. I left my home behind long ago, and for all I care the other angels can battle it out alone, but you expect better of me, and so I oblige."

"I don't want you to be unhappy," Sam said. "If you do not want to be there, come back to me."

Lucifer shook his head. "I want to be the man you think I am. Besides, I have much to atone for. My time away from you, dealing with the problems of my family, is my penance."

"You don't have to do anything for me."

"But I do. You are my world, Sam, and you expect better of me. I am trying to live up to that."

"Okay." Sam understood in his own way. He had a lot to make up for, too. He had done a lot wrong in his life, and coming back from his personal heaven was a part of the penance he needed.

Sam looked at the clock. It was a little past three-am.

"You should go back to sleep," Lucifer said.

"But I don't want to waste any time with you."

"Sleep now, Sam. I will be here when you wake."

Sam felt Lucifer's fingers brush his forehead and before he knew what was happening, he was asleep.

Sam arrived at Bobby's house feeling refreshed. Although he had started the night on a bad note, Lucifer had eased him into a restful night's sleep.

Sam turned off the engine to the Chevelle and opened the door. He could see Dean on the porch, talking on the phone, his brow furrowed and his eyes tight. He nodded once and then ended the call. Sam climbed out of the car and walked over to him.

"What's up?" Sam asked.

Dean took a deep breath and then looked down at the phone in his hand. "Got a call from Bobby. It seems they've got a Leviathan on ice. They're on their way back now."

Sam's brows knitted together. "Panic room then?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that should do it. We're going to need to experiment a bit. Maybe if we're lucky we can find something that can kill these suckers."

"Sounds like a plan, let's go." Sam rubbed his hands together and smiled.

Dean gave Sam an odd look and then nodded. "After you."

Half an hour later, Sam knelt down and checked the bolts that secured the chair to the floor as Dean set out a table full of various weapons and tools. Sam watched him for a moment and felt a chill go down his spine at the look of calm that had settled over Dean's expression. He looked peaceful as he ran a whetstone along the blade of a knife, serene even.

Dean looked over his shoulder, catching Sam watching him. "What?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

"About?"

Sam shrugged. "Everything. Nothing. The usual."

Dean nodded his understanding. "So, we ready to do this?"

"I think so," Sam said, checking his watch. "Bobby and Cas should be here anytime."

Just then, there was a clattering upstairs and Bobby's voice calling out. "You boys home? We got you a present."

Sam stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Well, here goes nothing."

Dean nodded, and they walked out of the room, greeting Bobby and Cas on the stairs.

They maneuvered the Leviathan into the chair and bound him in place. He was still unconscious, but Sam doubted he would stay that way much longer. Sam double-checked the leather restraints and then stepped back, looking over at Dean. "So what now?"

"We either wait for him to wake," Dean said with a shrug, "or we wake him ourselves." He walked over to the table and picked up a knife. "I think a little pain could go a long way to doing just that."

Sam swallowed, a sick feeling in his gut unsettling him. He didn't like seeing this cool, calm Dean—the Dean that looked like he wanted to slice into the Leviathan just to see it bleed.

Dean grabbed a knife and walked over to the chair. Tilting his head to the side, he lowered the tip of the blade down to the Leviathan's arm. He pressed down hard and the blade broke the skin, just barely parting way for the cool metal. The Leviathan stirred. His head rose, and he groaned. His eyes blinked open and he tensed, probably feeling the restraints. He tried to twist his body in the leather bonds, but the straps were secure. He wasn't going anywhere.

His gaze snapped to Sam and then to Dean.

Dean smiled. "Nice of you to join us. I'm Dean, and this is Sam. We will be your questioners today." He had the air of a hostess introducing herself.

The Leviathan scoffed. "Well, Dean, I'm Chet, and I will be the one eating you very soon." The skin where Dean had cut was already healing. Chet looked down at the wound and laughed. "You really think you can kill me, you puny, insignificant human?"

Dean narrowed his eyes and walked over to the table. He grabbed another knife and walked back to Chet's side. He twisted his neck and shoulders, cracking them loudly. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Chet threw his head back and spit at Dean. Dean's grip tightened on the blade and he lunged forward, driving the brass blade deep into his chest. Chet jerked and twitched, but then as Dean withdrew the blade he smiled.

"That all you got?"

Dean drew a breath and smirked. "Oh no, we're just getting started."

Sam looked away. He knew he was being a coward, but he just couldn't bear to watch. Bobby and Castiel were standing in the doorway, and they both looked as uncomfortable as him.

"You be okay down here, Dean?" Bobby asked.

Dean turned back and grinned. "Yeah, we'll be just fine."

Bobby nodded towards the door and Sam and Castiel followed him up the stairs and into the study. Castiel moved to stand against the wall, and he stared around the room, absorbing it all but not speaking.

"Drink?" Bobby asked, lifting a bottle of whiskey from the table.

Sam shook his head and crossed into the kitchen. "I think I'll stick with beer." He took a cold one from the fridge and unscrewed the cap. He leaned back against the counter and watched Bobby as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sipped at it.

"Something on your mind, son?"

"No," Sam said with a sigh. He didn't want to get into his worries about Dean with Bobby. It felt like a betrayal. Lucifer seemed to think it was important that Dean tell Sam himself. That didn't help Sam deal with what he'd just seen though.

"So you're not freaked out by your brother going full on inquisition down there?"

Sam shrugged. "We've got no choice. We have to find a way to kill them if we're going to win."

Bobby took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, you've changed a hell of a lot since you came back, but you still can't hide shit from me. You're as freaked out as I am seeing Dean doing that again."

"Yeah," Sam admitted, "He takes to it a little too easily, but he's getting the job done."

Bobby stared at him, and Sam felt like he was seeing right through him and his false acceptance. He rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep pull of his beer.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Bobby said.

Sam nodded his understanding. Bobby wasn't going to push him to talk about it, but he saw the change in Dean as clearly as Sam did.

"You didn't tell us," Sam said. "How did you trap the Leviathan?"

Bobby grinned. "We had a little help. Cas and I dealt with a couple of witches having a little marital spat. Just as we were busting out of town, Chet down there showed up. I thought we were both goners, but the man-witch showed up and took it down with a spell. He said it'd last a couple of days, so..."

"So we've got two days to take it out before we become lunch," Sam said.

Bobby nodded. "That's about it."

Sam sighed. "I guess I should take Dean down a drink. If we've only got a few days to work it, he's going to be busy."

"You really think that's going to work?" Chet asked as Dean leveled the gun at his head and adjusted his grip.

"Worth a shot," Dean said pulling the trigger.

There was a harsh cracking sound and Chet's head rocked back. "Whoo! Do it again! Come on, do it again!" he shouted.

Dean turned away, ignoring him completely, and put the gun down on the table.

"So, you're just gonna touch me in the morning, then just walk away?"

Dean grimaced. "Are you still talkin'?"

"Aren't you sick of this yet?"

"You bleed. You bleed, you can die."

"Who told you that?" Chet asked, "Because whoever it was, they're a dumbass."

Dean gritted his teeth. It was his father that had told him that, and he wasn't taking kindly to this creature talking crap about him.

"Oooh, I hit a nerve," Chet said with obvious enjoyment. "Your Yoda was someone special, wasn't he? Who was it? Daddy?"

Dean pulled back a fist and punched Chet on the jaw. It had absolutely no effect on the Leviathan, he merely looked amused, but Dean felt it. He thought he had cracked a knuckle. He turned away and gritted his teeth, massaging his hand. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a moment later Sam came into the room.

"You okay?" he asked, holding out a beer to Dean.

Dean took it and held the cold bottle against his sore hand. "Yeah, just fine."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes widened, and a voice spoke behind Dean. "Oh, I don't know about fine, from what I'm seeing in here, you're anything but fine."

Dean spun on his heel and stared at... himself. The Leviathan looked exactly like him, down to the amulet resting against his chest.

"What the hell?" he said breathlessly.

Chet grinned. "Shapeshifting is one of my many talents. All it took was a little of your DNA—thanks for the punch by the way—and you're all mine to explore."

Sam stepped up to Dean's side, and when Dean turned, he saw Sam's face was white and his jaw tensed.

"Change back!" Sam ordered.

Chet laughed. "I don't think so, not when I'm having so much fun delving into your brother's memories. Boy, the things he's thought about you..."

"Shut your mouth!" Dean snapped.

Chet raised his eyebrows. "Ask nicely."

Dean's hands fisted at his sides, his sore knuckle protesting against the strain. Unless the Leviathan was bluffing, he was in serious trouble here. For the first time since he had come into the basement, he was scared. If the Leviathan had access to all his thoughts, he also had access to his memories. He could tell Sam everything, every secret he was holding close to his heart. He could tell Sam what he had spent the last two years doing, and why he had done it.

"Fuck you!"

"Now, Dean, you really should treat me with a little more respect. I'm the one holding all the cards here after all. You want me to start spilling your dirty little secrets?"

Sam looked from the Leviathan to Dean. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing," Dean said. "Ignore it, Sammy. Actually, leave. Go upstairs."

Sam stiffened. Some internal battle was clearly raging within him, and Dean suspected he knew what it was. Sam clearly saw the changes in him, and now he was within reach of getting some answers.

"What's it going to tell me, Dean? Why won't you tell me yourself?"

"Because he's afraid," Chet said. "You see, Sammy, nothing matters more to Dean than what you think of him, and he scared I'm going to spill all his dirty little secrets."

"Sam, please," Dean said through gritted teeth. "Go upstairs."

Sam looked in to his eyes, and Dean thought he was getting through to him. He couldn't let Sam be here for this, he couldn't have him find out what he'd done. The Leviathan was right, what Sam thought of him mattered more than anything, and he was in danger of losing his brother. If Sam knew what he had done, he would leave Dean again. He wouldn't stick around if he knew just how far Dean had fallen into the darkness. But then the Leviathan spoke, and Sam stiffened.

"You want to know what he thinks of you?" Chet asked. "You want to know what's changed? I know you can see it. He's not the brother you left behind, is he? He's different. Think how far he went taking out that demon. That's the least of what's he's done."

"Leave, Sam," Dean pleaded. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but let me be the one that does it, not that thing."

Sam stared into Dean's eyes, and then he nodded. "Okay."

He turned and walked swiftly to the door.

Seeing he was about to lose his audience, the Leviathan shouted, "He hates you, you know. After everything he did for you, you up and le—" The rest of its words were cut off as Dean picked up a machete from the table and swung it in a wide arc, decapitating the Leviathan. Its head landed on the floor with a thud and rolled so its eyes were staring up at the ceiling.

Dean looked down at the head and grinned, relief overwhelming him. "I guess that works."

He turned, expecting to see the same elation on Sam's face that he could feel on his, but Sam wasn't smiling. He was staring back at Dean with a solemn expression.

"Did you hear me?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean. I heard."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

" _He hates you, you know?"_

The words reverberated around Sam's mind, overpowering all else. He barely noticed Dean swinging the machete through the air or the leviathan's head hitting the floor. Everything he had was focused on what he had just heard. It felt like the happy bubble he had been living in since he'd come out of the cage had been burst, and now everything was raw.

"Did you hear me?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean. I heard." He'd heard more than he ever wanted to hear, and the words had cut deep.

Dean looked at him with concern. "You okay?"

Sam raked a hand over his face. "Yeah, fine, why?"

Dean shrugged. "You looked a little rattled. I guess it was nothing."

Sam forced a smile and Dean looked appeased.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean said, "let's go share the good news."

Sam followed Dean up the stairs. His own plodding footsteps provided a counterpoint to Dean's excited stomps. As Sam trudged into the study, he saw Dean throw his arms wide.

"Call me a genius, because that's what I am!"

"You're a genius," Bobby said, not looking up from the book he was reading. "What did you do?"

"I only found a way to kill a leviathan."

Bobby's head snapped up and his mouth dropped open. "You did?"

Dean nodded. "A swing of the old machete and it's heads a rolling time."

Bobby grinned. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

"Because you just don't have my mad skills," Dean said, dropping down on the couch and resting one ankle on his knee.

Sam dropped down on the couch beside Dean and tried to maintain his smile. It was hard as inside he was still reeling.

Castiel stepped away from the wall. "This is good news."

"Damn right it is," Bobby said, picking up the phone from his desk. "I've got to put the call in to other hunters. This is the first breakthrough we've had in I don't know how long."

"I think this calls for a drink," Dean said.

Sam got up and went to the fridge to snag them a beer each. He would have liked something stronger to counteract the ache in his chest, but getting drunk would just loosen his tongue, and he would be baring all to Dean before he knew what was happening. That was the last thing Dean needed. He had already suffered enough because of Sam.

Before he could open the fridge door, a voice shouted up from the basement, and Sam froze.

"Hey, guys, I don't want to break up the party, but does anyone have a cough drop? My throat's a little dry."

He turned in time to see Dean jumping to his feet. "What the hell?"

"I believe the leviathan is talking to us," Castiel said blandly.

"But its head is... Man, that's just weird," Dean said, grimacing.

Sam crossed the room and hurried down the stairs to the panic room, the others following him. As he crossed the threshold, he stopped dead in his tracks, causing Dean to bump into him. The leviathan was grinning up at him, its head firmly attached. On the floor there was a trail of blood from where the head had lain to the side of the chair. Sam didn't even want to think about how the head had got back into position to mend; it made his skin crawl.

"What the hell are we going to do now?" Dean demanded, kicking the table where the tools of his torture lay.

"How's about we pick up where we left of?" the leviathan asked in Dean's deep tones. "Now, where were we?"

Sam saw the moment the words registered with Dean. He paled a little and his jaw snapped closed. Sam knew what he had to do. He didn't want to hear the leviathan spewing anymore vitriol against him, and even less did he want to see his brother's face as he did it. He picked up the machete from the table and chopped off the head once again.

Black blood spattered up and flecked his face. He wiped at it idly and turned to face the others. "We need to bury this."

Bobby nodded mutely, and with an expression of deep repulsion he picked up the head of the leviathan by its short hair and carried it up the stairs with Castiel on his heels.

Sam knelt beside the chair the remains of the leviathan was bound to and he began to undo the leather restraints. He felt Dean's eyes on him as he worked, and he turned and smiled. "You going to help?"

Dean nodded slowly and bent down to work on the other restraints. "Look, Sammy, about what the leviathan said, you know it's all—"

Sam couldn't bear to hear Dean lying to him, so he cut him off before he could say anymore. "It's fine, Dean."

"So, we're good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, we're good."

Dean nodded and they got to work dealing with the leviathan's body in silence.

Sam sat back on the bed and brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips. Taking a swig, he thought of all that had happened.

For the first time since his return from the cage, he felt tired and achy. Burying the leviathan had been a lot of work, and he'd thrown himself into the physical labor, anything to distract himself from the thoughts of what he'd heard.

As soon as he had done filling the hole in the ground, he had excused himself—against Dean's protests—to go back to the motel. On the way he'd stopped by the liquor store. He'd intended to buy a six pack, but the bottles of whiskey had been too tempting, and he'd forgone his usual beer in favor of the good stuff. He knew he would regret it in the morning, but that could just add to the list of regrets he was dealing with at the moment.

What the leviathan had revealed weighed on him like a physical thing. Dean hated him. It was not as big a shock as it should have been. It was as if Sam had already known it on some level but it wasn't until it had been vocalized that it really sank in.

He had certainly given Dean enough reason to hate him. He'd abandoned him again and again, failing miserably each time. He'd opened the cage and released Lucifer, killing countless people. He'd lied to Dean and hidden the fact he had fallen into Ruby's clutches, drinking demon blood to power his abilities. Then the worst crime of all, he'd left Dean to fight alone while he threw himself into the cage to be with the man he loved. He had betrayed his brother again and again. It was no wonder Dean had finally had enough of him.

He wished Lucifer was there. They had been together so long that the ache of his absence added to the pain in his chest that his guilt had left him with. He felt even more guilt for the fact he was thinking of Lucifer when he should be focused on his brother and fixing what he'd broken there. But there was no way to fix it. What he had done was beyond repair.

He threw his head back and it clunked against the wall. It hurt, but in a way, the pain was a relief. It took something away from the ache in his chest. He was unsurprised to feel tears pricking at his eyes.

"Thinking deep thoughts?" a familiar voice asked.

Sam's eyes snapped open and he saw Lucifer standing at the end of the bed. The tears that had been pricking at his eyes began to fall in earnest. He climbed out of the bed and crossed the room in three strides, falling into Lucifer's waiting arms.

"What's happened?" Lucifer asked, patting his back.

"I screwed up, Lucifer, I screwed up bad."

Lucifer led him to the bed and eased him down. Sitting beside him, he pulled Sam against his side and pressed a kiss to his hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't even know where to start," Sam said. "I know now, and I wish I didn't."

"You know what your brother has been hiding?" Lucifer asked, shock coloring his tone.

Sam nodded against his chest. "I know."

Lucifer carded his fingers through Sam's hair. "Do not judge him too harshly. Dean was acting as he thought best."

Sam turned to look in to Lucifer's eyes. "Judge him? Lucifer, it's him that should be judging me. He _is_ judging me, and I've fallen short."

Lucifer's brow creased with confusion. "Explain to me exactly what he said."

Sam sniffed. "He didn't have to say it. The leviathan said it for him."

Lucifer's look of confusion deepened. "Sam, I don't understand."

Sam rubbed at his eyes. "Bobby and Cas got hold of a leviathan, and we trapped it in the basement."

"Okay, setting aside the danger and ludicrousness of that statement for now, what happened next?"

"They're shapeshifters," Sam said. "Dean punched one, and it became him. It had all his thoughts and memories, and it said..."

"Yes?" Lucifer probed.

Sam looked down at his lap. "He hates me, Lucifer. Dean hates me."

The corners of Lucifer's mouth turned down to a frown, and he fell silent for a moment. "And you're willing to take the word of a monster on something as important as this?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "You didn't see Dean's face. He didn't want me to hear it, but it was too late."

"If your brother hates you, why would he care that you heard it?" Lucifer asked reasonably.

Sam shook his head. "Because it's what Dean does. It's hardwired in him to protect me, even from the truth.

Lucifer nodded. "I believe he is protecting you, but not from what you think. He is protecting you from himself. Do not question your brother's love for you. He went to Hell for you, Sam."

"That was before," Sam said. "Before everything I did."

"And what is it that you believe you've done so badly to deserve his hate?"

"Do you really need to ask that?" Sam said, looking at him with a raised brow. "Look at what I've done, the hurt I've caused. My life has been nothing more than a path of destruction."

"You're so much more than that, Sam. If you defined yourself by your acts, then I would be nothing more than a monster, but here I am trying to be better for you. You taught me that. Why is it that you can forgive me for my sins, but you cannot forgive yourself?"

Sam brought the bottle to his lips once again, but Lucifer caught his hand. "No more, Sam. You are punishing yourself with this, and it's wrong."

Sam sighed and dropped the bottle back into his lap. "You're right. I don't know what to do though. I have to make it right with Dean, but I don't know where to start."

"Your brother's love for you runs deep," Lucifer said. "I understand hate and love, and I know the difference. Dean may be angry with you, he may even think he does hate you, but through it all he also loves you. Love and hate can exist together. Look at Michael and I. He forced me from heaven and then into the cage, and I had every right to hate him for it, but I didn't. I loved him still, and his death pains me greatly."

"What do I do?" Sam asked plaintively.

"You do what you are already doing. You be there for your brother and try to make amends. He had a turbulent two years while we were gone, and he will need your understanding of that."

"Lucifer," Sam said, "is it really that bad, what happened to Dean?"

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "It is, and when he comes to you, you will have a chance to redeem yourself in your and his eyes."

"Why won't you just tell me?"

Because if you know, it can change your relationship irrevocably. I have taken you from your brother once. I will not do it again."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. He needed a break. "Lucifer, can we go to Membata?"

Lucifer nodded. "Of course."

Within minutes, Sam was reclining on the beach, staring out at the ocean reflecting the light of the setting sun. He was tired, more than a little drunk, and overwrought with emotion, but he had his angel with him, and for a few hours it was possible to forget just how much damage he had done and how clueless he was as to how to fix it.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

Dean was elbow deep in the Impala's engine when Bobby found him. He'd heard a strange whining noise last time he took her out, and he was determined to work out what was wrong before he drove her again.

"You got a minute?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked out from under the hood. "What's up?"

"I want to talk about Sam."

Dean wondered what it was about him working on a car that made people think it was time for a deep and meaningful discussion—first Castiel and now Bobby. It was damn inconvenient.

He raised his head from under the hood and rooted around in the toolbox for a wrench. "What about him?" he asked distractedly.

"Something's wrong," Bobby said.

Dean turned to look at him and he saw a deep frown creasing Bobby's brow. He sighed and dropped the wrench back in the toolbox. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, he leaned against the car and gave Bobby his full attention. "Something like what?"

"He's been bouncing around like a pup with two tails since him and Lucifer came back, but since we brought in that leviathan, he's been like… I don't know, depressed. Even having Lucifer around didn't change it, and you know how sickeningly happy they usually are together."

Dean had noticed the same change in his brother. He was smiling and putting on a good show, but Dean, and apparently Bobby, could see through it. It was in his eyes that Dean could see the change. They were no longer bright with excitement, they were dull and lifeless even when he was smiling broad enough to crack his face.

"You talk to him about this?" Dean asked.

Bobby nodded. "I caught him earlier. He said he was fine, but I don't believe him."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it's being apart from Lucifer that's done it."

Bobby looked thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe. They definitely need each other now, even more than they did before. Have you noticed?"

Dean had noticed. He'd not seen Sam and Lucifer together much since they'd been back until the day after they'd taken out the leviathan. When Sam arrived that morning, Lucifer had been with him, and they'd had a few days together before Lucifer had to go back upstairs to deal with the angelic issues that were going on. Despite Sam's hidden sadness, he couldn't help but notice how they were together. They gravitated towards each other at all times. Even when Sam was doing something simple, like brewing the coffee, Lucifer was beside him, watching his every move, and Sam would do the same. If they had been close before they went into the cage, it was nothing compared to how they were now. Dean found it a little unnerving, but he guessed they were bound to be more in sync after over two centuries together. A small, hidden part of him was a little jealous. He was used to being the closest person to Sam, but Lucifer had usurped his position. Sam had moved on and created a life that he wasn't part of while Dean had been left with a different, darker path.

"Yeah, I've noticed," he said, looking moodily out onto the scrap-yard.

Bobby opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he snapped it shut again. "Anyway, I was hoping you could try and get him talking," he said. "He might open up to you."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, 'cause I'm known for open, honest conversations."

Bobby smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Have a go, all right?"

Dean nodded. "I'll do my best, but don't expect me to—" His words cut off as he heard a shout from inside the house.

"Dean!"

He and Bobby exchanged a look of horror and raced together into the house. As they crossed the threshold, they saw Castiel standing in front of Sam with his arms spread wide, facing off against a figure in a black overcoat.

"Crowley," Dean spat, starting forward with a fist raised.

"Now, now," Crowley said, raising his hands in front of him. "You don't want to go punching me. You'll only hurt your hand."

Dean ignored him completely, and stepped closer. Crowley sighed and waved an arm carelessly in the air. Dean was forced back against the wall and pinned in place.

"Let me go," he said through gritted teeth.

"I will when you've calmed down," Crowley said conversationally.

"Calm down!" Dean said, his face tight with anger. "You sent us after Lucifer with a gun that didn't work, getting my brother killed in the process, and you want me to calm down!"

"How was I to know it wouldn't work? Besides, your brother looks fine to me now."

Sam was fine now, but that didn't make up for the minutes of horror as his brother lie dead on the floor. It didn't make for Dean having to lay his body out, praying desperately that Lucifer would be able to heal him. Crowley may not have known the Colt wouldn't work, but Dean needed someone to pin his anger to, and Crowley was the person he had in mind.

"Speaking of your brother…" Crowley held out a hand to Sam who was still trapped behind Castiel. "Nice to meet you, moose. I'm…"

"I know who you are," Sam said. "Lucifer's replacement in the pit."

Crowley spread his arms wide. "What can I say? Someone had to do it since you tamed Lucifer, and I was the voters' favorite."

"And how's that working out for you?" Sam asked. "You enjoying it?"

Crowley shrugged. "I've had worse jobs. Being Lilith's right-hand man was a lot more work that what I've got going on now."

Sam smirked. "Sounds like it. If things are going so well for you, why did you need the Purgatory souls? You struggling to summon the power to rule?"

Dean was impressed by Sam's nerve facing off against the King of Hell. Sam had never been a coward, but there was a new self-assurance in him now. He had faced worse and he wasn't scared to do it again.

Crowley scowled and redirected. "Speaking of your boyfriend, how is he? I heard he got his fairy wings back."

Sam grinned. "He's fine, thanks. He'll be here soon to say hello in person."

Though he tried to hide it, a flash of fear crossed Crowley's face. Dean figured he couldn't be too excited about the prospect of meeting Lucifer. As his replacement, there had to be a certain amount of animosity there. Not to mention the fact that, when he wanted to be, Lucifer was a scary ass dude. Dean had seen a glimpse of that after Sam had been shot and then again after they come out of the cage, and he wasn't eager for a repeat performance.

"Well, if I'm interrupting date night, I best get down to business," Crowley said. "I have a couple of questions, and I'm hoping you, moose and squirrel, can answer them for me."

"Let me down and we can talk," Dean said.

With another wave of his arm, Crowley released Dean.

Stepping away from the wall, Dean asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Straight to business," Crowley said. "I like that. You would make a great… Never mind. I want to know what you're doing about the leviathans."

"Why do you care?" Sam asked.

"I care because they're taking out my demons!"

Dean laughed. "I'll make sure to give a crap about that later."

"Leviathans can kill demons?" Sam asked, looking amused. "That's awesome."

"Hate to burst your bubble, moose, but they can't really kill demons. They can eat their meat-suits though."

Sam frowned. "Why are they doing that?"

"Apparently, they've developed a taste for us," Crowley said. "I put it all down to that Dick."

Dean snorted. "Dick?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "If we're done with the school-yard humor..."

Dean grinned. "We're done."

Crowley looked dissatisfied, but he continued. "The leviathans have a leader, Dick Roman, and he's not a fan of the demon race."

"Dick Roman. As in _the_ Dick Roman?" Bobby asked.

Dean frowned. He'd heard the name on the news, but he didn't know anything about him. Judging by Sam's look of confusion he hadn't heard of him at all. It was good to know that, while he might be a walking hunter's journal now, there were still things Sam didn't know.

"Who's Dick Roman?" Sam asked.

"Big time billionaire business mogul," Bobby said. "You know, I thought something was up when he went from recluse to media whore, but I never guessed it was this. So, he's a leviathan now."

Crowley nodded. "Yeah, and his name really suits him. I approached him, businessman to businessman, offering a deal of sorts—"

"Why am I not surprised?" Dean mumbled.

"-and he blew me off." Crowley continued as if there had been no interruption. "Bloody rude if you ask me."

"So, you tried to shaft us by hooking up with Dick but he wasn't interested, and now you're here to... What exactly, team up?"

"Hell, no," Crowley said with an affected shudder. "I just want you boys to do your jobs."

"And that would be?"

"You're hunters, aren't you? Hunt them already!"

Dean wondered when it had become their responsibility to deal with the woes of the world. They were hunters, some among many, why was it down to them to save the world?

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "Look here, there's only so much we can do. You've got a whole demon army at your command. Why don't you have them do it?"

"Weren't you listening, you halfwit? They're eating my demons!"

"So, you want them to eat us instead?" Dean said.

Crowley nodded. "Pretty much."

Dean stiffened. "Okay, I've had it with this shit. Bobby, get the holy water, we're exorcising this filth."

"Good luck with that," Crowley said. "I'm the King of Hell now. It's going to take more than a little holy water and some snappy Latin to do away with me."

Outside the window, rain began to pelt the windows and lightning flashed across the sky. Knowing what was coming, Dean grinned.

"I think you're right," Sam said, looking exceptionally satisfied. "A standard exorcism isn't going to cut it this time. No problem, we've got back up."

The room began to quake, and Crowley looked around with a furrowed brow. "What's going on? What's your back up?"

"That would be me," a smooth voice said.

Crowley spun on his heel and took a step back as he came face to face with Lucifer.

"That's my cue to leave," Crowley said, throwing back his head.

Red smoke streamed out of his mouth and into the air. Dean barely had a moment to think before Lucifer reached up and caught the smoke in his bare hand. With a smile, he lowered his hand, effectively forcing the smoke back down Crowley's throat. When the smoke was gone, Lucifer stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Lucifer..." Crowley said, clearing his throat. "I've been meaning to arrange a meeting for some time. It's good to see you out of the cage. I'm glad that I could play some small part in that."

"You?" Lucifer asked. "How exactly did you help?"

"Well..." Crowley shifted uncomfortably. "I was the one that teamed up with Raphael who took out Michael, thereby clearing the way for you to come back. There's no need to thank me. I was just doing my job."

Lucifer's smile grew wider, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Yes," he said slowly. "You are part of the reason Michael is dead. I would like to kill you where you stand for that but, unfortunately, you are a necessary evil in Hell now. I have, as you so rightly said, exchanged my pitchfork for a pair of fairy wings, and I am now dedicated to Heaven."

Dean realized Lucifer had been there listening the whole time. Sam had likely called him the minute Crowley showed up, but Lucifer had been waiting for the right moment to make his appearance, lightning and all.

"Fairy wings?" Crowley said, tugging at his collar. "Did I say that? What I meant was..."

"Enough!" Lucifer snapped. "You are still alive because I have need of you. Continue to annoy me, and I will smite you where you stand."

Crowley nodded vigorously. "Right. No smiting necessary. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Dean was amused to see that Crowley was genuinely scared of Lucifer. He didn't blame him, Lucifer could be scary when he wanted to be, but it didn't sap the enjoyment he felt watching Crowley squirm.

"Tell me about Raphael," Lucifer said. "Where is he?"

"No idea," Crowley said quickly.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"As God is my judge, I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since he exploded like a sack of pudding."

"What are his plans now?" Lucifer asked.

"Wouldn't know. He left me high and dry. He was supposed to split the souls with me, but he sucked down the lot and royally shafted me in the process."

"I believe," Castiel said slowly, "that he is telling the truth."

Crowley beamed at him. "Knew there was a reason I liked you, Cassie. Now, how's about we make a deal. I'll go on my merry way to deal with the day to day running of Hell, while you boys take care of the leviathans. As an added bonus, I'll even keep my demons out of your way."

"Let me make a counteroffer," Lucifer said. "You _will_ keep your demons and I will let you walk out of here with both legs attached."

Crowley clapped his hands together. "Absolutely. No demons for you boys. Check."

"So, we're just going to let him stroll back into Hell?" Bobby asked, disapproval clear in his tone.

Lucifer sighed. "We really have no choice. I have abandoned Hell now. It will be chaos without someone to take control, and Crowley, as inept as he is, will suffice to do the job. If we take him out, someone else will take his place. At least with him, we have control over his actions."

Crowley didn't look thrilled by this analysis, but he didn't dispute it either. "So, we got a deal?" he asked.

Lucifer nodded. "Yes, you will continue to do as you have been doing and I will let you live. Now," He walked towards the door and turned waiting for Crowley to follow, "I think it's time you and I had a little chat about Hell."

Crowley followed him and turned back at the door. "It's been good seeing you, boys. I'll see you again... soon."

As he said the last word he locked eyes with Dean, and Dean felt some understanding pass between them. He knew then that his mission over the last two years to land himself a ticket to Hell had been successful. The only problem was that his brother wasn't there to cushion the fall anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Sam was woken by cool lips peppering kisses across his cheeks. When eyes opened, he was met with Lucifer's face.

"Is it time to go already?" he asked sleepily.

Lucifer nodded. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but I really should be returning now. Gabriel has called me. There has been unrest between the garrisons and I am needed." Lucifer twined his fingers with Sam against the pillows and he pressed a kiss to Sam's knuckles.

Sam didn't want Lucifer to leave, but he did his best to hide that from Lucifer. Naturally, after so long together, Lucifer saw the hesitation in his eyes.

"I will do my best to return to you as soon as I can," he said.

Sam nodded. "I know. I'm being stupid. Ignore me."

Unfortunately, it was harder for Lucifer to ignore the tears that pooled in Sam's eyes. Sam blinked, and the tears began to fall. Lucifer traced their path with a cool finger. "Is this just our parting or is there more that you're not telling me?"

Sam shook his head. "It's everything; Dean, you, me, it's all getting to me."

Lucifer looked sad. "I wish I had the answers for you, Sam, but I don't. I believe that, no matter what else he feels for you, Dean loves you. As do I. There is nothing you could ever do that will change our feelings for you."

Another tear slipped down Sam's cheek, and Lucifer pulled him against his chest in a crushing embrace. Safe in the protection of his angel's arms, Sam let the tears fall and the pain take him for a moment. All the while, Lucifer rubbed soothing circles on his back and whispered words of reassurance.

When Sam had choked himself to calm again, Lucifer leaned back so he could look him in the eye. "I love you, Sam."

Sam nodded and smiled. "I know."

Lucifer pressed a cool kiss to his temple and then he was gone. Sam lie back in the bed for a long moment and tried to push down the feeling of longing that swept through him. He didn't want to Lucifer to go again. It seemed that they never had enough time together before Heaven pulled them apart. He had encouraged Lucifer to go home and deal with the angels, but that had been when he was being selfless. Now he was feeling more and more selfish, and he wanted his angel back.

Throwing back the bedclothes, he climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He set the shower to running and stood at the sink and brushed his teeth. Looking in to the mirror, he saw his red-rimmed eyes and miserable expression. He looked awful, and if Bobby and Dean saw him looking like this, they would know for sure something was up. He smiled, but catching his reflection, he saw it looked more like a grimace. Sighing to himself, he stepped into the shower and began the process of cleaning himself up.

He tried to focus on the good things to bring him out of his dour mood, but every positive had a downside. Lucifer had been readmitted to Heaven, but that meant he was away from Sam. He was back with his brother, but Dean hated him for leaving in the first place. They had a way to deal with a leviathan, but the main culprit was too heavily protected by wealth and fame for them to get close enough to use it.

By the time he was finished in the shower, he was feeling even more miserable. He couldn't go to Bobby's looking like this, he had to suck it up and act happy even if he was feeling far from it. They deserved better than worrying about his moods. They had more important things to deal with.

Thirty minutes later, after stalling as long as he could in good conscience, he pulled the Chevelle to a stop in front of Bobby's house. He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and saw that it was no longer evident that he had been crying that morning. Pasting a smile onto his face, he climbed out and scaled the steps to the house.

Inside, the others were all awake and milling around the room. Dean was leaning against the counter, cupping a mug of coffee in his hands. Bobby was at the kitchen table with the newspaper open in front of him, and Castiel was skimming one of Bobby's books in the study.

"Morning," Dean said. "You okay?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah. Lucifer's gone back though. There is trouble in the garrisons."

Castiel looked up. "Trouble?"

Sam nodded. "I don't know the details, only that he had to go back and deal with it."

Castiel nodded thoughtfully.

"What's the plan for today?" Sam asked.

Bobby folded his newspaper and looked up. "Well, there's a hunt if you're feeling up to it."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sam asked, confusion creasing his brow.

Bobby held his hands up. "No reason. What we've got so far is in that binder on the desk. I've been watching it for a couple of weeks, and it took a turn yesterday. Cas and I were going to take it, but if you're at a loose end..."

"We've got it, right, Dean?"

Dean nodded. "You know me. I'm always up for a hunt."

Sam crossed the room with long strides and picked up the binder. There were newspaper cuttings inside, telling of the unexplained killings of loggers in Southern New jersey. He skimmed through the pages and he found an article that made him raise his eyebrows. "The Jersey Devil?"

Bobby nodded. "That's what they're calling it."

Dean scoffed. "So, we're hunting a myth."

"When are we not hunting what other people would call a myth?" Bobby asked. "I don't know if it's _The_ Jersey Devil, but something's killing people down there, and they don't look like any animal killings I've seen before. Hearts are intact, or as intact as it's possible to be given that their chests are shredded."

"Sounds like our kind of gig," Dean said. "Let me just clean up and I'll be ready to go."

"Would you like me to take you?" Castiel offered.

"Nah, a drive will be good for us," Dean said. "And Baby could do with a chance to stretch her legs."

"Thanks though, Cas," Sam said.

Castiel nodded and turned his attention to the window.

Sam poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down next to Bobby at the kitchen table. He pulled over Bobby's newspaper and flicked through it as he waited for Dean to come back. He heard Bobby's heavy sigh and he looked up. "Everything okay?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Bobby said. "You feeling all right?"

Sam frowned. "I'm fine, Bobby."

Bobby's eyes bored into him, and Sam knew he wasn't fooled. He could see through Sam's 'fake it till you make it' act. Luckily, Dean chose that moment to make his noisy reappearance with damp hair and a duffel over his shoulder.

"We need to stop by the motel to pick up your stuff?" he asked.

"Nah, I've got a few things in the Chevelle that will do me for now."

"Right then, let's haul ass. Cas, be good. Don't let Bobby throw any ravers while we're gone."

Castiel nodded solemnly. "I will take care of him."

Sam patted Bobby on the shoulder and waved to Castiel and then followed Dean out of the house.

As he pulled his duffel out of the back of the Chevelle and climbed into the Impala, he thought that this hunt could be a step toward making things right with his brother. Hunting together had to be a good thing, right?

xXx

After two longs days on the road, they pulled up in front of the Red Carpet Inn in Hammonton, New Jersey late in the evening. Sam climbed out of the car and went into the office. There was a middle-aged man behind the counter with a beer gut and scrubby beard.

"What can I get ya?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the portable TV balanced on the corner on the desk.

"Double room for a week please," Sam said. He thought it was better to book for longer than they might need rather than too short a time.

The man grunted and raised his eyes from the TV at last. "That'll be three hundred even. Room thirteen."

Sam pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and counted out the money. It was strange to be using cash rather than a fake credit card, but he liked it; It appealed to his morals.

Taking the key from the clerk, he walked out to the car. "We've got room thirteen," he said.

Sam crossed the parking lot and let them into their room. It was about the same standard as their usual sleeping arrangements, with a musty smell and unidentifiable stains on the carpet. The beds looked clean enough though. He dropped his duffel down onto one and pulled out his laptop. Sitting down at the table, he flipped it open and connected to the motel's slow internet service.

By the time Dean came into the room, having moved the Impala, Sam was halfway through a wiki article on the Jersey Devil.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think this might be an actual fugly."

"Of course it is," Dean said. "Why do you think we just drove two days, the scenic views?"

"No, what I mean is that it sounds like a fugly we can take out rather than searching the woods for days. Listen to this..." He read down the page. "A kangaroo-like creature with the head of a goat, leathery bat-like wings, horns, small arms with clawed hands, cloven hooves and a forked tail."

Dean laughed. "We've come across some ugly fuglys before, but that sounds like the worst. I don't know whether we should kill it or take a photo for Weekly World News."

Sam smiled. "I'd go with killing it. These are something you mess around with."

Dean's smile faded into a hard line. "Let me guess, you know what it is from your lessons with Lucifer?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "I have a theory."

"Of course you do. Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"It sounds like a Shantak, though why it would be killing people I don't know."

Dean flopped down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "It's a fugly, isn't killing people what they do?"

Sam shook his head. "Not these. They're like Lenore and her coven of vampires. They're good, or at least they should be. They feed on animals mostly, living deep in the forests."

"This one isn't," Dean pointed out. "Anything else I need to know about them?"

"It's a skinwalker. So, it could look like anyone. It's not so much with the kangaroo look, according to Lucifer it's more reptilian looking. It will have red eyes when in its creature form, and has a blood curdling scream." Sam coughed. "And it's the child of a witch and demon."

Dean snorted. "So, if a witch and a demon get frisky, this the result—a forked tailed, lizard looking, fugly?"

Sam shrugged. "I think so. Lucifer said so anyway."

"Well, if that's isn't disgusting, I don't know what is."

Sam chuckled. Now that he thought of it, it was pretty disgusting.

"So, we're basically looking for a needle in a stack full of needles," Dean said. "I mean this dude could look like anyone, and we have no idea how to track it down."

Sam nodded, looking awkward. While he knew, at least intellectually, that it wasn't his fault, he felt like he should know more about these creatures and how to find them. He had all the facts, but no idea how to track it down. Lucifer's lessons had been all about teaching Sam the lore of the world. They'd had no idea that one day Sam would use that knowledge to hunt, as for them, there were no more hunts. Now he had to adapt everything he had learned to life on road with his brother.

"We know all the victims were all loggers," Sam said. "We can start out at the lumber yard, see if there is anything there worth looking at. That's where the bodies were found."

"You want to hang around a lumber yard on the off chance that this..."

"Shantak," Sam supplied.

"Yeah, that. You want to hang around in case it shows up?"

Sam shrugged. "It's the only idea I have."

"Fine," Dean said with a sigh. "But we can do that in the morning. I want a beer and food in that order."

Sam stood. "You want me to bring something back, or shall we go find a bar?"

Dean stretched and yawned. "Nah, I'll come with. I saw a place called Duke's on the way into town. We can go there."

Sam grabbed his jacket and the Impala keys. He had a feeling he would be the one driving tonight, as Dean had the look in his eyes that foretold of copious amounts of alcohol.

When they got to the bar, they found it was busy already, despite the early hour, and judging by the abundance of flannel and the scent of sawdust, it was largely patronized by the loggers they were there to protect.

They weaved through the crowd, finding a booth at the back of the room by the pool table. Dean threw himself into the booth and rested his elbows on the sticky table. Sam sat beside him, and rested his palms in his lap. He didn't want to get covered in other people's beer.

A waitress bustled over to the table and flashed them a wide smile. "What can I get you, boys?" she asked.

Dean leaned back in his seat and a slow smile crept across his face. "Hey there. We'll take two beers and I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, please."

"Sure thing, hon," she said and then turned to Sam. "You hungry?"

"A club sandwich, please."

The waitress winked at him and walked back to the bar with a sashay in her hips.

"I think you're on there, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Lucifer would just love that."

"Aren't you allowed to have fun anymore?" Dean asked,

Sam sighed. "It's not like that, Dean. When you have someone you love, you don't want anyone else."

"That's how it is, is it? Just you and Lucifer now."

"He's my everything."

Dean's jaw tensed. "I'm going to go play some pool. Call me when our food gets here."

Sam watched him go, confusion creasing his brow. He didn't understand Dean's sudden mood change. Was it a surprise to him that Sam wasn't interested in waitresses now he had Lucifer? He should have known that by now. Now Sam had his angel, he had no need of flings with random women. Maybe Dean thought he was judging him for how he lived his life. Whatever the reason, he had apparently annoyed his brother, when he was striving to do the opposite.

Sam was halfway through his beer and thinking about exchanging it for a belt of whiskey when their food arrived. He caught Dean's eye at the pool table, but Dean waved him away. Apparently, he wasn't hungry anymore. That or he didn't want to be with Sam anymore. Either way, it didn't improve Sam's feelings of guilt and confusion.

He took a couple of bites of his sandwich before he pushed it away. Draining his beer, he got to his feet and headed towards the bar. He pulled up a stool beside another man, and waited for the bartender to notice him.

"Not local, are ya?" a rough voice said.

Sam turned and saw that the man he had sat beside was eyeing him curiously.

"Just passing through town," Sam said. "On a road trip."

"Well, you picked a great place to come. Hammonton is a great town... at least it used to be."

Sam's brow furrowed. "It seems fine to me."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You've not noticed the destruction then." Seeing Sam's confusion, he continued. "The Barrens. They used to be the local tourist trap, but since they started clearing the way for the new development, people have stopped coming." The man pulled open a flap on his duffel and pulled out a green pamphlet. He held it out to Sam, who took it and read over the cover quickly.

"'The destruction of nature's beauty,'" he read aloud.

"Damn right," the man said, holding out a hand. "I'm Finn, and I'm one of the few remaining free thinkers in town."

"Sam." They shook hands and Sam turned the pamphlet to read the back. It was a passionate diatribe against the 'lawless development of the people's land'. "So, you're not on board with the development."

"Hell no. It's going to destroy the town. All people are seeing at the moment are the dollar signs the development and loggers are bringing into the town, but when it's all died down, and there are no more Barrens to enjoy, people will regret it. Half of these people in here aren't local. Just transient loggers coming in to destroy what's good and green. That's why you can find me, every day, protesting at the gates of their yard."

Sam had met many protesters in his life, especially at Stanford where students were always lobbying one cause or another, but he'd never met anyone quite as impassioned as Finn. He truly believed what he was saying.

Sam was about to question Finn about the murders when a logger passed behind them, knocking him into the front of the bar and knocking his drink over. It could have been an accident, the guy was huge, but Finn seemed to take it as a personal attack. He leapt out of his chair and grabbed the passing man's arm.

"Hey, asshole! Why don't you look where you're going."

The man turned and fixed Finn under his steely glare. "You got something to say to me?"

"Damn right I do. You made me spill my drink."

There was no denying Finn's bravery, he was tiny compared to the behemoth he was facing, but Sam did question his intelligence. He would get battered if it came to a fight. Sam stood and laid a hand on Finn's shoulder, sensing rather than seeing Dean coming to stand on his other side.

"Nobody wants any trouble," Sam said, turning to Finn. "I'll buy you another drink, and we can forget anything happened."

"Yeah, _Finn_ ," the logger said. "Let your boyfriend buy you another drink and we can forget all about this."

Finn surged forward, and Sam caught him around the arms, effectively holding him back. "Finn! Calm down."

"How's about we all calm down." The waitress that had served them before had come back and she was flanked on either side by two burly guys. "Now, Anslow..." She addressed the logger. "You owe Finn a drink."

The logger put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill. "Take this, you can keep the change. Put it towards your pamphlet campaign."

Finn surged forward once again, and for a small guy, he was pretty strong. Sam struggled to hold him. One of the guys beside the waitress clapped an arm around his shoulder and led him towards the door. "I think it's time you got some sleep, Finn."

Sam watched as Finn tried, unsuccessfully, to twist and squirm his way out of the man's grip. They disappeared out of the door and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good, but I'm getting out of here. That's enough excitement for me for one night."

"I'll see you back at the motel then," Dean said.

Sam pulled out his wallet and held out a bill to Dean to cover their bar tab. Dean raised a hand.

"I don't need your money. I've got some, and I can hustle the rest."

"We don't need to hustle," Sam said. "We've got—"

"I'm not Lucifer's bitch, Sam. I don't need his money. I'll get my own the way I always have."

Sam stood with his mouth ajar. He was stung by Dean's harsh jibe, but before he could call Dean on it, he'd turned away and walked back towards the pool table.

Sighing to himself, Sam headed out of the bar and set out back towards the motel.

xXx

Sam was woken in the early hours of the morning by someone slapping his leg. "Wakey wakey, Sam. We've got shit to do."

Sam jerked upright. "I'm awake. What's happened?"

"Another killing."

Sam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and watched his brother as he flopped down onto the opposite bed and untied his bootlaces. "When?"

"No more than a couple of hours," Dean said. "I saw the fallout on my way back here. You know the logger guy that was screwing with your buddy?"

Sam nodded. "Anslow I think they called him."

"Yeah, him. Well, he's the town's latest fatality. I caught a look at the body; it was a real mess."

Sam sighed. Anslow may have been a jerk but he didn't deserve to die.

"Where was this?" he asked.

"In an alley a block down from Duke's," Dean said.

Sam frowned. "You sure it was the shantak? Its only taken people in the forest before now."

"I'm telling you, Sam. It was no human killing. Whoever did this had some serious claws and teeth going on. Unless your buddy Finn was hiding..." He trailed off looking blank. "Finn!"

"What about him?"

"He's the thing, the shantak or whatever you want to call him. I bet you the Impala that it's him. You said it was a skinwalker, right?"

"Yes," Sam said slowly. "But that doesn't mean it's Finn. It could be anyone."

"Anyone with a grudge against loggers, one logger in particular. I'm telling you, Sam, it's him."

Sam's mind rebelled against the idea. He didn't want to think of Finn as a monster that they would have to kill. He'd seemed like a nice, normal guy.

"We'll talk to him," he said. "Ask him where he was last night. He might have an alibi."

"And he might have been chowing down on Anslow," Dean said. "Think about it. The shantak is supposed to be tame, right, living in the forest, but these loggers are taking out the forest. It has to be pissed that its home is being destroyed."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. It did all add up, even though he wished it didn't. The fact that the attack happened in town rather than in the forest as the previous ones had pointed towards Finn, too.

"We'll talk to him," he said.

"Talking's not gonna cut it, Sam, we need to know for sure whether it's him. You said it's part demon, you think holy water would work?

Sam shrugged. "I guess so. Lucifer never mentioned it."

Dean grinned. "Then we'll load up and sprinkle your buddy with a little of the good stuff, see if it fizzes." He looked pleased that they had a plan of action. He toed off his boots and threw himself down onto his bed. "Get some shut-eye, Sam. We've got a busy day ahead of us."

Sighing to himself, Sam clicked off the lights and climbed into bed.

xXx

When morning came round, Sam dragged his heels as much as possible, insisting on showering and having breakfast before they went out after Finn. He wasn't ready to face and possibly kill the man he'd met and liked. Eventually, he ran out of excuses to delay, and they set out for the lumber yard.

Dean was in an exceptionally good mood. If Sam didn't know better, he would have thought that Dean was looking forward to killing Finn. He hummed along with the radio and beat a rhythm on the steering wheel as he drove.

The lumber yard was on the outskirts of town, bordering the forest. Finn was there, at the entrance with a megaphone in his hand shouting to no one as the yard was empty. Sam guessed most of the work happened in the forest. It was to their benefit that it was empty, because it would mean less witnesses for them to avoid.

Dean pulled the car over at the side of the road and climbed out. Sam swung open his door, and followed with a heavy heart.

Finn greeted him a with a smile. "Sam, how's it going."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean got in ahead of him. "I'm Dean, Sam's brother."

Finn held out a hand for Dean to shake. "Good to meet you. What are you guys doing here?"

Dean grinned. "Sammy was telling me all about how the town is being destroyed by the logging, and as an amateur journalist. I was hoping you could tell me more about it. This would make a great article for my blog."

Sam was both amused and impressed by Dean's cover story. He'd clearly put some thought into it. It made a change from posing as cops.

"Sure!" Finn said excitedly. "Would you like me to show you what they're doing? We don't have to go far. The damage is apparently only a few hundred yards in."

"That'd be great," Dean said, putting a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Let's go."

Sam trailed after them as they rounded the yard and walked into the trees. Finn kept up a running commentary on the history of the area as they walked. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, as was Dean. The only one that wasn't having fun was Sam as he knew what was coming next.

"This'll do," Finn said, coming to a stop in the middle of a patch of trees.

"This'll do for what?" Sam asked. They hadn't come to any of the destruction yet, this was an area like any other.

Finn smiled. "There's no need to pretend, Sam. I know what you are."

Dean stiffened. "What do you know about us?"

"That you're hunters. And that you're here for me."

"I'm right then," Dean said with satisfaction. "You're the thing that's been killing people."

Finn shrugged. "I've been seeking retribution for my home, yes."

Sam sagged. He hadn't wanted to hear this.

Dean slid his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the demon knife. "Well, on behalf of both of us, I would like to thank you for making our job so easy. Not only did you bring us out here, away from any witnesses, but you confessed. We've never had such an easy hunt."

Finn stretched his arms wide. "There will be nothing easy about this." With a sick ripping sound, he transformed. His eyes blazed red and his spine lengthened and bowed over with the weight of his large head. The closest descriptor Sam could think of was a dragon, but that didn't do it justice.

He had all of a second to process what he was seeing before the creature bowed its head and locked eyes with Dean. "Please, we don't have to do this!" Sam pleaded as he watched it crash into his brother, sending them both toppling to the ground, the demon blade falling from Dean's grasp.

Before he knew what happened, Sam felt a searing pain running across his chest and arm. He put his hand to the wound and his fingers came away slick with blood.

"Sammy?" Dean shouted.

"I'm good," he said pushing himself to his feet. "You?"

"I'm just fine," Dean said through gritted teeth, circling the creature with the demon blade gripped tight in his hand.

"Finn," Sam said, pushing himself to his feet. "You don't have to do this. Change back and we can talk."

The creature threw back its head and screamed. Lucifer's lore hadn't been wrong. The sound was like nothing Sam had ever heard in his life. It chilled him to the bone.

"Finn, please," he said again. "Don't make us do this."

Finn looked at Sam, and for a moment, he thought he had reached him. He wasn't advancing on them anymore at least.

Sam licked his lips and tried to think past the pain to work out what to say next, but it was too late. Dean used the moment that the creature was focused on Sam, and he lurched forward and stabbed Finn in the chest. He pulled back his arm and stabbed again and again. It was the demon in the alley all over again. He was a man possessed, and his eyes were dead.

One moment, it was the reptilian creature writhing in pain in the ground, and the next Finn was human again, though still mortally wounded. He raised shaky hands and looked up at Dean who was standing over him with the blade raised.

"Please," Finn choked. "Don't..."

"Too late," Dean snarled. With a practiced movement, he swept the blade through the air, cutting Finn's throat.

Sam stared in horror as the blood pooled around Finn's body.

Dean straightened and wiped the blade of the knife on the leaves of a fern. Looking at Sam and grinning, he asked, "We done here?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we're done."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Dean knew it was coming, he could read his brother better than anyone, but when the confrontation came, it still caught him off guard.

He and Sam jogged back to the car and hightailed it out of the vicinity of the lumber-yard and back to the motel. He could tell Sam was hurting bad by the sharp breaths he took as the Impala turned corners, but when he offered Sam a bottle of pills he had stashed in the glove compartment, Sam refused them.

When they pulled over in front of the motel, Sam climbed out before the engine had been cut and let himself into their room. Dean grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk and followed his brother inside.

"We've got no time for that," Sam said abruptly. "We need to get out of town fast. Someone will find Finn's body soon, and who knows what evidence we left behind."

"We've got time to fix you up," Dean said. "You're bleeding out there, Sam."

Sam shrugged it off. "I'll call Lucifer when we're somewhere safe."

"Of course you will," Dean mumbled.

Sam turned to face him, a deep scowl etched across his features. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Sam. What do you think it means? He's all you're about now."

Sam stiffened. "Seriously? You're going to give me shit about Lucifer after what you just did?"

Dean bristled with anger. "What I did was our job, but maybe you've forgotten that."

"I haven't forgotten anything. We're hunters, but that back there wasn't hunting the way we do it. You whaled on him. He was begging for his life, Dean."

"And I put an end to it. He was a monster, nothing more."

Sam raked a hand through his hair. "So, you don't feel even a little bad for what you did, killing a man that was begging for life?"

Dean looked away. "I did what I had to. What you weren't man enough to."

Sam shook his head. "You think I care whether you think I am man enough? I care about doing the right thing, and that back there, wasn't it, nor was what happened in that alley with that demon. This is not how we hunt, Dean."

"It's how _I_ hunt."

"Why?" Sam asked plaintively. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Since when did you start caring?"

"What's that supposed to mean? Since when do I not care about you?"

Dean turned away from Sam. He didn't want to have this conversation. It was leading to places that wouldn't end well for him. If Sam kept pushing, Dean would end up revealing too much and that would drive his brother away once and for all. If Sam knew just what he'd done, he would leave, and that would destroy Dean.

"Talk to me," Sam snapped, grabbing his arm and trying to turn him.

Dean shrugged him off and stepped out of reach. "We're not talking about this, Sam."

"I say we are. I want to know what the hell has happened to you."

Dean's hands clenched into fists. "You don't want to know, Sam."

Sam stepped close and grabbed his arm again. Cradling his injured arm across his chest, he tugged on Dean's sleeve. "Please talk to me. Tell me what happened."

Dean reacted without thinking. His fist swung back and caught Sam across the jaw. He stumbled back against the bed, and held a hand to his face.

"You want to know what happened to me?" Dean shouted, looming over his brother. "You really want to know." His anger had taken him now. It swept him up and carried him away.

Sam nodded mutely.

"Fine!" Dean snapped. "You happened to me!"

"What did I do?" Sam asked.

"You left me, Sam!" Dean bellowed. "After everything we'd been through, after everything I did for you, you left me."

"I had no choice," Sam said quietly. "I had to go."

Dean laughed a harsh, sardonic laugh. "You had a choice, you just made the wrong one."

He paced the length of the room, his hands fisting and uncurling at his sides. He wanted to lash out at someone, something. He kicked the bathroom door and it rattled in its frame.

"You left me," he said through gritted teeth. "I took care of you for years, giving you what you wanted and needed. I went without, so you could have, but when it mattered, you couldn't go without for me."

Sam nodded, his eyes looking red and wet. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry!" Dean cracked his knuckles. "You think that makes it all okay, do you? You think you can say sorry and it cancels out the last two years? You know how it felt for me to live in the world knowing you were gone."

Sam pushed himself to a sitting position, winching. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know why," Dean said. "What did I do that was so bad that it made you choose to go to Hell rather than stay with me."

That was the question that had dogged him since the day Sam took the dive. Why hadn't he been enough to keep his brother in the world after everything he'd given to keep him safe? He'd gone to Hell for Sam and even that hadn't been enough to make him stay.

"You didn't do anything," Sam said, thumbing away the wetness in his eyes. "It was Lucifer. I couldn't live without him, and I knew..."

"That you could live without me," Dean finished for him.

Sam shook his head. "It wasn't like that. You were the strong one. I knew you could live without me, but I couldn't live without him."

"You overestimated me."

Sam's brow furrowed. "You did fine without me. I knew you would."

Dean huffed. "I did fine? Sam, you have no idea what I became without you. You think these past couple hunts were bad, they are nothing, _nothing,_ compared to what I have done lately. You left me alone, no backup, no family, and I was left to fight this damned war alone."

"You had Bobby and Cas."

"I had no one!" Dean bellowed. "I was all alone. You left me alone."

Sam winced and tugged his injured arm closer around himself. "I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that like it means something. It's just words, Sam. You know," he ran a hand through his hair and smiled, "I thought when you came back that it was all going to be good again. I thought we'd be back on track and happy again, but I was wrong. I got you back, but you still don't want me."

Sam frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"What about what you said yesterday, 'he's my everything'. You see? Even now, after all we've been through, you don't need me. You don't want me; you just need him."

Sam sighed. "That wasn't what I meant. Of course I need you. It's just... different with Lucifer. How I feel about him doesn't change how I feel about you. You're my brother, Dean."

"And that means so much to you, doesn't it?" Dean scoffed.

Sam stiffened. "Yeah, it does. I came back for you, Dean. I was going to leave Lucifer in the cage and come back here to help you, so don't you tell me I don't care. I gave up everything to come back to you."

Dean rocked back as if Sam's words had been physical blows. He was shocked to hear that Sam had been prepared to leave everything for him, and he knew that it should quell some of his anger, but it kept building regardless.

"Don't try and tell me what it means to give something up for someone. I went to Hell for you, Sam. The real Hell. Not that candy canes and unicorns crap you and Lucifer shared."

Sam pushed himself to his feet, paling slightly. His shirt had a deep crimson stain on it, and it was growing. "You went to Hell for me, and I am beyond grateful for it, but don't pretend I didn't sacrifice anything for you. I went to Lucifer for you. Before I knew who he was, I went willingly to the Devil. I know it's not the same as Hell, but it's something. And yes, I came back, from the cage where I could have had forever with the man I loved in our own personal Heaven. I came back from that for _you._ Don't pretend that's worthless."

Sam stumbled back against the bed and his knees gave way. He flopped down, groaning in pain. The groan acted like a bucket of cold water over the flames of Dean's anger. "Damn, Sam," he said. "I think you need to call Lucifer."

Sam shook his head. "I'm fine, just get me the first aid kit."

"The hell with that. You've lost too much blood."

"No, Dean. I'm not calling Lucifer. He's got other things on his mind."

"Screw this, Sammy. If you don't call him, I will."

Sam gritted his teeth and made for the first aid kit, but Dean caught his arm and pushed him back onto the bed. "Hey, Lucifer, we could do with a little help down here. We're in the Red Carpet Rooms, Hammonton, New Jersey, and Sam is bleeding all over the rug."

"I told you not to do that!" Sam snarled. "He doesn't need to... Lucifer." Apparently, the sight of Lucifer was the last straw for Sam's equilibrium. He sagged forward, and Dean just got there in time to stop him face-planting on the floor. Lucifer immediately took over supporting Sam's torso, and Dean moved to grab his legs. They eased him down to the bed together and then Lucifer straightened.

"What happened here?"

"Heal first," Dean said crossing his arms over his chest. "Then we can explain."

Lucifer nodded and laid his hands gently on Sam's injured shoulder. A moment later, Sam's eyes blinked open.

"Sam," Lucifer breathed reaching out and cupping Sam's cheek. Dean watched as they exchanged a moment together. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"I didn't want to pull you away from Heaven. They need you."

"I need _you_ more."

Dean shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he was intruding on something private. He rubbed at the back of his neck and then cleared his throat. "So, he's okay now?"

Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at Dean. "Yes, he's going to be fine. Now tell me, what happened."

Sam pushed himself up in the bed. "Just a hunt gone wrong, nothing more."

Lucifer studied Sam for a moment before nodding. "Please, in the future call me before things go this far."

"So what now?" Dean asked.

Sam swung his feet over the side of the bed. "I say we get the hell out of dodge. The sooner the better."

Dean nodded. "I take it you'll be going with him, so I'm just gonna grab my shit and head out."

"Dean—"

Dean put up a hand, stopping him. "Don't worry about it, Sam. It's fine."

Sam looked hurt, but he nodded. "I'll catch you later."

Dean shouldered his duffel and opened the door. Casting one last glance over his shoulder at his brother and Lucifer, he reassured himself with the knowledge that Sam would be taken care of just fine. Despite what he'd said, he didn't need Dean, not really.

He stowed his duffel on the back seat, and was about to climb in behind the wheel when he heard the motel room door opening again. He turned and saw Lucifer closing the door gently behind him.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Sam is fine. I wanted to talk to you."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He had a feeling this was going to be an unpleasant conversation. He closed the car door and moved to lean on the hood.

Lucifer came to stand beside him. "It occurred to me that we had not had a chance to talk alone since your brother and I returned. I have been here so briefly, and my time has been occupied with Sam. There are just not enough hours in the day on earth. I wish to talk to you now, though."

Dean nodded. "Shoot."

"I want to talk to you about, Sam," Lucifer said. "And what happened between you both today."

Dean sighed. "He told you then."

"No, on the contrary, he defended you, but I am able to see the welt on his jaw had the exact shape as your fist."

Dean stiffened. Lucifer sounded calm and composed despite the fact they were discussing the punch he'd given Sam. He half expected Lucifer to smite him on the spot for what he had done. Lucifer was nothing if not protective of Sam.

"I assume you had a frank discussion and it became heated," Lucifer said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's about it."

"Do you mind me asking what it was about?"

"Can't you just ask Sam?"

"He will not tell me," Lucifer stated. "Which pains me. There has never been anything Sam would not share with me before."

Dean was impressed. He'd not given Sam any reason to defend him, on the contrary, he'd raged at him, blaming him for everything that had happened to him.

"Did you discuss your years of separation?" Lucifer asked.

"In a way."

"Does he now know how you spent those years?"

Dean shook his head. "What do you know about it?"

Lucifer looked serenely out over the parking lot. "I know it all, Dean. You have been watched by angels for years. Did you think that would stop because the apocalypse is over?"

"Angels on my shoulder, huh?" Dean said. "Kinda thought that would have been replaced by a demon after the last couple of years."

"They really were turbulent years. I accept some blame for that."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "You should. You are partly to blame. If you hadn't... then Sammy wouldn't have..."

"You blame me for taking him away from you," Lucifer stated.

"Shouldn't I?"

"I can shoulder my portion of the blame, thought I will not apologize for it. I had a long time with Sam in the cage, and I will make no apology for that, though I am sorry it came at the expense of your happiness. I never intended for Sam to follow me in. I would have done everything I could have to prevent that in fact. There is no reason he should have been able to make it through intact."

"But he did, and you had your time together," Dean said. "While I was left here alone."

"Is that what you quarreled about?" Lucifer asked. "Him coming to me?"

"Kinda. We got into a few things One of which was the fact he was happy to dump me to be with you."

Lucifer's hands fisted at his sides. "I will forgive you saying that, as you don't know any better, but never for a moment believe your brother was happy to leave you behind. We were happy in the cage, jubilantly happy for my part, but your brother missed you every single day we were gone. He did not dump you. He believed you would be able to cope without him when he knew he could not cope without me. It's not his fault that he overestimated you."

Dean took a moment to allow Lucifer's words to sink in. He assumed out of sight was out of mind as far as Sam and him went. He never believed Sam would have taken time away from his 'heaven' to think of him. It made him feel guilty for underestimating his brother's affection.

"So, you see," Lucifer said, pushing away from the car and reaching for the door handle. "Your brother didn't abandon you. He just took a different path. A lot like you did."

Dean's head snapped up. "Lucifer, are you going to tell him what I did?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I will not, but you should. There are others that know, and Sam should hear the truth from you not someone else."

Dean nodded and watched as Lucifer opened the motel room door and disappeared inside. Running a hand through his hair, he climbed into the Impala and started the engine, musing on the fact that, as family went, Lucifer wasn't so bad.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Dean stumbled down the stairs, called on by the ringing of Bobby's phone. It was late morning, and he'd been sleeping when it had woken him. He'd got back from New Jersey in the early hours of the morning, and he'd been exhausted.

Cursing whoever was on the phone, he scrambled into the kitchen and snatched it off the wall.

"Hello."

"Oh, good, you're back."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, it's me. Who were you expecting? Never mind. Cas and I have got ourselves into a bit of a situation, and we need you and Sam to come by and help."

All sleepiness deserted Dean as a rush of adrenaline coursed through him. "What's happened?"

"We got word of a nest of vampires in Mitchell. We got here late last night, and went in after them but there were too many. They got our scent, Dean. We've got till sundown to take them out."

"We'll be right there." He jotted down the address Bobby reeled off and tore the sheet off the pad. "You two hang tight. Whatever you do, don't go after them again."

"Got it," Bobby said. "And, Dean, hurry."

"You know it." Dean set the phone back in its cradle and snatched his jacket from the peg on the wall. He jogged out of the house and threw open the door of the Impala. Gunning the engine, he steered through the junkers out onto the road.

As he drove, he dialed Sam's number and waited while it rang. He hoped Sam wouldn't ignore the call. He had every right to after the way their last encounter had gone, with Dean raging at him and not noticing that his brother was slowly bleeding out. That wouldn't be winning him any _Brother of the Year_ awards.

"Dean?" Sam's voice sounded alert when he answered.

"Bobby and Cas are in trouble," Dean said without preamble. "I'm on my way over to you now. Be ready." Dean snapped the phone closed and dropped it down onto the seat beside him. Coaxing a little more speed from the engine, he directed the car to Sam's motel.

Sam was waiting outside his room, with his bag over his shoulder. As Dean pulled to a halt, he climbed in and set the duffel down on the back seat.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"All I know is that a nest of vampires have their scent and they're holed up and waiting for us."

Sam nodded curtly. "You think we need Lucifer in for this?"

Dean considered. Lucifer would be helpful, he could swing a machete with the best of them, but as Sam had said in New Jersey, he had more important things to think about. Besides, Dean still felt a certain drive to prove himself and calling Lucifer in would put a nix on that.

"Nah, we can handle it."

"Okay."

They spent the rest of the forty-five-minute drive to Mitchell in silence. Both of their thoughts seemingly directed along the road with Bobby and Cas and their nest of vampires.

The address Bobby had given them was on the outskirts of town, in a derelict industrial estate. Dean pulled up in front of the building Bobby had described, and cut the engine.

They climbed out of the car, and Sam jogged towards the door of the warehouse.

"Bobby? Cas?"

"Hang on, Sam," Dean called after him, opening the trunk and retrieving two machetes. He ran after Sam and handed one to him.

Sam took it and leveled it against his shoulder as he pulled open the door. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him back, stepping into the building first.

Bobby and Castiel were nowhere in sight, but that didn't worry Dean at first. There were old offices located off the main cavernous room, and he figured they were holed up in here. He and Sam exchanged a glance and nod, and then they each started towards one of the doors leading into the anterooms.

Dean yanked the door open and looked inside. It had once been a storage room. There were metal shelves stacked with moldy looking cardboard boxes. His eyes raked the room, but there was no sign of Bobby or Castiel.

"Dean!"

He heard Sam's shout, and his stomach dropped. There was fear in Sam's voice. He ran out of his room and into the one Sam had taken and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. There was a pool of smeared blood on the floor.

"Bobby! Cas!" Dean bellowed, receiving no answer.

"Dean, something's not right here."

"Ya think?" Dean snapped.

There was a rustling sound, and their heads snapped up. They spoke in unison.

"Lucifer?"

"Cas?"

In answer there was a soft chuckle, but no one appeared.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered, turning on his heel and taking in the room.

There was another soft chuckle and a voice came out of the shadows. "My, my, The Winchesters. Your reputation precedes you, though it's largely wrong. I heard you were mighty hunters."

"Why don't you come out and talk to us?" Dean said. "Scared."

"Oh, Dean, if anyone here should be scared, it is you."

There was a second rustling sound and a woman appeared. She was dark-skinned and had full rounded lips and deep brown eyes. She would have been beautiful if not for the sneer she wore as she stared at Sam and Dean.

"Have at it then," Dean said. "What are you, vampire, leviathan or some new fugly we haven't had the pleasure of killing yet?"

The woman chuckled. "None of the above."

"Where are Bobby and Cas?" Sam demanded.

"Not here."

"But Bobby...".

"It's a relatively innocuous ability of an angel, to mimic voices," she said conversationally. "But it came in very handy today."

Sam stiffened. "The blood?"

"Dog," she replied.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd seen the blood, his first thought had been of Bobby. He was relieved his friend was okay, though it didn't help their situation much.

The woman smoothed down the folds in her skirt. "I believe introductions are in order. My name is Raphael."

Sam drew in a sharp breath and the woman smiled.

"Now, I would love to stay here and chat, but we have places to be. My brother will soon realize you are missing, and I don't want him spoiling all our fun."

Her hand snapped out and touched Sam on the forehead. His eyes rolled back and closed. Dean started forward and tried to ease his passage to the ground, but he was too late, and Sam was too heavy. He caught his arm as Sam's head cracked against the cold concrete floor.

"Bit slow there, Dean," Raphael said. "You need to do better if you are going to be able to protect your brother."

Dean dodged back as she reached for him, and she scowled. "You cannot elude me." She gripped the collar of his shirt and dragged him forward. Slowly, making sure he knew what was coming, she brought her fingers to his forehead.

Before she could make contact, Dean shouted out. "Lucifer! Raphael's got us, at—" His words were cut off as her fingers pressed against his temple sending him to sleep.

When Dean woke, he was assaulted by the noxious scent of stale urine. His eyes cracked open, and he saw he was on the floor of a small room with dirty, white cinderblock walls. At one end of the room was a row of bars looking out onto a filthy hall and into another cell where there was a prone figure on the floor.

"Sammy!"

Sam moaned and rolled onto his back. "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me. How are you feeling?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, and Dean guessed he was tallying his hurts before answering. "My head's splitting. What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Sam pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning heavily against the wall. "Raphael."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, dude looks like a lady now."

Sam rubbed his fists into his eyes. "That's almost funny. Don't suppose you got a chance to call Lucifer or Cas before we were taken, did you?"

"I got a shout out to Lucifer. The prettiest angel in the garrison took me out before I could give the address though. They'll know we've been taken though."

"That's something," Sam said, sighing. "Lucifer will find us."

"You really believe that?"

"Yeah, if he has to search the globe, he will find us. I have faith."

Dean wished he had the same faith. He didn't doubt that Lucifer would look, but he was going up against Raphael; they were both archangels. He was sure that Lucifer could smack Raphael down if they came face to face, but Lucifer would have to find them first. Raphael could bounce them around the globe, constantly eluding Lucifer. Their situation seemed pretty dark, but at least they were together, and Raphael had, for the moment at least, decided to leave them in peace.

As if Dean's thought had summoned her, Dean heard soft footsteps coming along the hall. He scrambled to his feet, not wanting to be cowering on the floor when she arrived. He saw Sam doing the same across the hall, though he didn't look too steady. It seemed the knock to the head had done some damage.

"Gentlemen," Raphael said, stepping into view. "I trust that you are comfortable."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, there's nothing I like more than the scent of stale urine."

She smiled. "Always the joker, Dean. I wonder, will you be as readily amused when I have finished with you."

"And what exactly is it that you are going to do to us?" Dean asked.

Her smile widened. "That would spoil the surprise."

From her pocket she took a key and unlocked Sam's door.

"Hey!" Dean shouted. "Leave him alone! You want to screw with someone, take me."

Raphael turned to face Dean. "Wait your turn."

Sam scuttled back against the wall, cowering away from her. As she reached for his arm, he twisted and writhed, but as her grip tightened, his face paled and he stilled.

"Now, Sam, you and I are going to have a little chat about Lucifer. Say goodbye to your brother."

Sam turned to Dean, and Dean saw his eyes were wide. Though he was trying not to show it, Sam was scared.

Dean lurched forward and reached his arms through the bars. "Leave him alone!"

"I will not," Raphael said. "I have been waiting for this chance for a long time."

She dragged Sam out of his cell, and along the corridor. Dean craned his neck, watching through the bars as Sam was herded along the corridor and out of sight.

"Sammy!"

It was only a few minutes later that he heard the first scream.

Dean paced the length of the cell like a caged animal. He had lost track of the time, all that mattered was the cries he heard coming down the corridor—Sam's cries. Each one tore at him like a knife through his chest. That it was his brother making those sounds, each speaking of unendurable pain, hurt Dean more than any of the blades of Hell had.

Worse than the cries was the silence. At times, there would be no noise but Dean's own racing heartbeat. He prayed those times meant that Sam was being given some reprieve from the pain, but it seemed more likely that he was just too exhausted to scream anymore.

In was in one of these instances of silence that Dean heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He prayed that it meant Sam was being brought back to his cell and that he would be taking his place, but he was disappointed. Raphael was alone when she stepped into view. There was blood splattered on her suit. The sight made Dean suck in a breath.

"Enjoying the show?" she asked.

"I will kill you," Dean vowed.

She laughed. "You're welcome to try. Unfortunately for you, I am not as easy to kill as you might think."

"If it's the last thing I do, I will make you pay for what you have done."

Raphael clapped her hands together. "You have spirit. I like it. Now, I have given your brother a moment to rest, and I thought we should take advantage of the opportunity to talk."

Dean leaned his forehead on the bars. "I've got nothing to say to you that I haven't already said."

"In that case you can listen while I tell you a story," Raphael said. "A story of a good son that was abandoned by his father. You can relate, can't you, Dean?"

"Fuck you."

Her jaw snapped closed with an audible click. "Rude, aren't you. You're going to regret that."

"You think you can hurt me? I've been through Hell. You've got nothing I'm afraid of."

"That's true. You must have quite the pain threshold now, but you know who hasn't? Sam. He's never felt Hell's knives slicing him open, but now he has felt Heaven's. I have been having so much fun with him."

Dean slammed into the bars and rattled them. "You leave him alone."

"I don't think I will. You know what I will do, I let him have a little rest while I speak to him. You see, Dean, your exploits are known to Heaven. I know every little nefarious thing you have done these last two years. I think it's time your brother heard the truth, too. It's really unfair that he had been left out of the loop. Besides, emotional pain is so much more fun than physical."

Dean was enraged. He rattled the bars and bellowed expletives at Raphael.

"Now, now, Dean. The more you mouth off to me, the more I will share with your brother."

"What do you want from me?" Dean asked desperately.

"From you I want nothing. It's Lucifer that I want. Your suffering is just an added bonus."

She turned on her heel and walked back down the corridor. As he heard the door open, words were ripped from him. "Raphael, please don't do this."

The only answer he got was a satisfied chuckle.

As the door clicked closed behind her. Dean raised his eye heavenward. "Lucifer, please help us. She's hurting Sam, and I can't do anything." He wiped at his wet eyes. "Lucifer, please."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

"Sammy!" Dean yelled from his cell as Sam was dragged down the corridor.

Raphael had a firm grip on Sam's arms and she was not letting go, no matter how hard Sam struggled. Her fingers dug into Sam's biceps hard enough to bruise.

"Just settle down. Fighting me will get you nowhere," Raphael said lightly, opening a door at the end of the hall. She shoved Sam inside. He stumbled and caught himself on the floor, scraping his palms against the cold concrete. He pushed himself to his feet and squared his shoulders, his hair hanging in his eyes.

The walls were bare and a dirty white and there was a bed with restraints in the center of the room. It sent a chill down Sam's spine. "What do you want?" Sam asked.

"Revenge," Raphael said. "We were all supposed to living in a paradise on earth right now, but no. You had to change that, didn't you? Taming the devil."

"Leave Lucifer out of this!"

"Oh no, but where would the fun in that be? This is the greatest revenge I could seek. Destroying the one thing he loves more than all, more than his brothers. I'm going to take you apart, Sam, piece by piece. I will twist your soul into something not even my brother can repair."

Sam glared at her. "I'm not scared of you."

"No, maybe not yet," Raphael took a step toward Sam, "but you will be. You will fall, Sam. The things I will do to you will leave you begging on your knees for a death I will not grant. I will let you live on the edge of survival, outside Lucifer's reach and never within his touch again."

"He will find me," Sam warned.

Raphael shrugged. "Well I better get started then."

With a wave of Raphael's hand, the door swung closed, slamming hard and echoing through the small room.

Sam swallowed thickly and took an involuntary step back. He looked down at the bed and then back to Raphael. He licked his lips and braced himself for the fight to come. He fisted his hands at his sides and met Raphael's intense gaze. "You won't break me."

Raphael raised a brow as she shrugged a shoulder, strolling over to Sam casually. "You look tired, Sam. Why don't you take a nap?"

A second later, fingertips were brushing his temple and he collapsed to the floor.

When he woke, he was laying on something soft. It took him a moment to remember where he was, what had happened, but when he felt the hard leather restraints on his wrists and ankles, it all came flooding back.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the peeling paint of the ceiling. He turned his head, looking around the small room, trying to catch a glimpse of his captor, but she was nowhere in sight. He was alone.

He breathed a sigh of relief for the moment, knowing soon it would all change. He didn't want to admit he was afraid, but deep down inside him, he knew he was. He was afraid not for himself, but for Lucifer. Lucifer would fall in every way if he lost Sam. He would break apart if Raphael truly managed to do what she promised.

There was a rustling sound and Sam knew he wasn't alone. Raphael was back.

Her shoes tapped and echoed against the hard floor as she walked closer to Sam. He craned his neck, trying to get a better look at her. She was carrying what looked like a black medical bag and it made Sam's stomach drop.

She set the bag down on the floor and opened it up. Sam's hands fisted as he tried to shake free of his bonds, but found them secure. He dropped his head back down to the bed and drew a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come.

"He liked it, you know."

"What?" Sam asked, brow furrowing.

Raphael stood and walked over to the bed, holding a knife. "Your brother, the killing he did while you were gone."

Sam watched with wide eyes as she inspected the blade in her hands. "What are you talking about?"

"The things he's done would make your skin crawl."

Sam swallowed and shook his head. "It won't work. Whatever you think you're doing, it won't work. I know Dean better than anyone."

Raphael laughed, tossing her head back as she did. "Oh, Sammy, so naïve."

She brought the knife down to his neck, just above the first button of his shirt. "I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion, don't you?"

"Screw you!"

She rolled her eyes. "You wish." Gripping Sam's shirt tightly, she ripped the fabric from him. "That's better. An artist needs her canvas."

She looked thoughtful as she brought the tip of the blade down to the spot just above Sam's right nipple. She pressed down, parting the skin just slightly. Her gaze flicked to Sam's face. She looked curious and excited, like a child discovering something new.

Sam's face twitched as she drew the blade across his chest.

"You humans are so fragile," she said as she traced the blade down Sam's stomach. "It takes so little to kill you. It makes what I'm doing so much more tenuous. I can't have you dying, but thankfully, I can heal you before that happens."

The sting of the blade burned through Sam and he bit his tongue, trying to block out the pain.

Raphael seemed to notice him trying to hold back as she smiled. She reached out and ran her arm down Sam's side, tracing her fingers through the blood. Sam pulled back from her touch as if it burned him.

"Easy now, Sammy. We're just getting started."

She traced fingertips down Sam's arm to his hand. Her touch was gentle, and it made it all that much worse. When she got to his hand she stopped and grabbed his thumb and with one swift move, she yanked it back. The snap was audible. Sam threw his head back and screamed at the sudden pain that flooded his system.

"That's more like it," Raphael said sounding pleased. Sam barely felt her touch his other fingers and then there was another snap, followed by another. Sam's vision swam as the pain overtook him, radiating up his arm. He felt a wave of nausea come over him and he retched.

Raphael laughed, and Sam felt a hand press down on his hip. He could feel his joint straining against the pressure until it finally popped and broke as well. Sam screamed and bucked in his bonds.

Tears began to fall from his eyes, leaving damp trails down his face. He choked and sobbed. Even breathing seemed to hurt.

"I think we're making progress, don't you?" She brought a fist down on his ankle, crushing the joint.

His body began to feel like it was floating, and the pain began to numb. He felt darkness creeping in around the edges of his mind and he let himself fall into it.

When Sam woke next, the pain was gone, but the restraints were still there. He opened his eyes and looked around, the familiar grey walls greeted him.

He looked down at his chest. The wounds from earlier were gone, and his limbs were intact and pain free. He had been healed.

"I see you've finally decided to join me," Raphael's voice chimed from the corner of the room. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake."

Sam set his jaw, the memories of the pain fresh in his mind.

"Not feeling chatty?" she asked, walking over into Sam's line of sight. She folded her hands in front of her and looked down at Sam. "I had a visit with your brother while you were out. You should have seen the tears in his eyes when I told him what I did to you."

"Don't you dare touch him!" Sam warned.

"Now, now, Sam. Not to worry, I didn't touch a hair on his pretty little head, but we did have a little chat. It seems he's rather against me telling you the truth, telling you what he's done." She smiled as she sauntered closer. "He murdered a girl, you know. A demon was using her as a human shield and he shot straight through her without a second thought. He watched her die and did nothing."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. "Dean wouldn't do that."

"Oh, but he did." Raphael looked Sam in the eyes. "He did so much more." Sam had to look away as she continued. "One by one, he executed the victims of an arachne because it was easier than dealing with the living. He's a monster, Sam, but so much worse than the ones you hunt because he's human."

"Dean's not a monster."

"Oh, but let me tell you a story, all the dark little secrets your brother has been keeping from you. It puts me to shame."

Sam didn't have another choice but to listen as she told him all the things Dean had done, some worse than others, but all things he never imagined his brother doing. He could feel his gut twisting with the images that she created. Like a puzzle, it all began to fit together; the way Dean had been acting, the hiding and secrets, the anger. Dean had changed and not for the better.

"I don't care. He's still my brother." Sam watched as her expression hardened. She placed her hand on Sam's shoulder and began to squeeze. The bones shifted and then joint popped out of place.

Sam screamed in pain, his chest heaving.

"Tell me, Sam, what hurts more, your shoulder or knowing what you did to your brother?"

Sam could see the truth in her eyes as plain as day. She wasn't lying about what Dean had done. It had been the truth and it settled heavy in Sam's heart. He had been the one to send Dean down that path. He knew it was his fault, but he couldn't bring himself to regret loving Lucifer.

Sam closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths, trying to push away the pain, but then her hands were on him again and he tensed. She pressed down on his other shoulder, and the same as the first, she popped it out of place. Sam tried not to scream, trying not to give her the satisfaction, but he couldn't stop the cry slipping from his lips.

"You know, Sammy. You can end this. Stop the pain. All you have to do is switch places. You get off the bed and Dean gets on."

"Never."

She shrugged. "Give it time, Sam. Humans are all dark at their core."

Raphael moved out of sight, ducking down to get into her bag again. She pulled out the knife again. Sam's eyes fixed on the blade and he tensed. "Just think, this could be Dean and you could be nice and safe in your cell. Just say the word."

Sam drew back and spit at her. "Fuck you!"

She wiped the offending filth from her face and scowled. "You're going to regret that."

She brought the knife down to Sam's chest. Sam closed his eyes and waited for the pain to come. He didn't have to wait long. She made the blade dance along his chest, swirling patterns and symbols into him.

The blood pooled and ran down his sides and soaked into the mattress. He could feel in cooling beneath him. The more pain he felt the more resolve he had to protect Dean from it. Dean had been through enough.

Sam swallowed thickly. "When Lucifer finds you, he will kill you."

"Then we best make sure he never does," Raphael dropped the knife back into the bag. "I imagine they are regretting allowing Castiel to brand your ribs. It makes finding you so much harder. Near impossible, really."

The sigils were something that he and Lucifer had never discussed. They had once served a purpose that was now gone.

She stepped closer to the bed and dug a finger into one of the wounds on his chest, causing Sam to grunt in pain. "He can still hear you though. I just imagine him now, tearing about the earth searching for you."

She reached down and grabbed Sam's wrist, with one firm twist, she crushed it. The suddenness of the pain caught him off guard and he threw his back, cursing and shouting.

"Say his name, Sam," she said softly. "Call to him. Call your angel."

She rested his hand on his elbow and then squeezed. Sam felt tears rolling down his cheeks. His voice was hoarse from screaming. He was in agony. He just wanted it to end. If he died, he knew Lucifer would find him.

She pressed her hand hard against his already dislocated shoulder. The pain shot through him and he couldn't breathe. "Lucifer," he whispered.

The pain in his body overwhelmed him and it was as if he could feel his heart beating, each pulse driving pain through him. He closed his eyes and let the last of his tears fall as the darkness overtook him. It was peaceful there in the darkness, nothing could hurt him. He thought of Membata and of Lucifer. He imagined his angel there with him, his cool touch on his body. He imagined Lucifer there, holding his arms wide and welcoming him home. He stepped into them and let the cool embrace take him away.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

"You should go to him, Lucifer."

Lucifer looked over at Gabriel. "My place is here. You can't do this alone."

"You're no good to us if your attention is divided."

"My attention will always be divided. I cannot wholly focus on Heaven when Sam is in the world."

"Which is exactly my point. Why are you doing this to yourself? You're miserable here."

Lucifer sighed and turned to look out at the ocean. They were in the heaven of an elderly fisherman who spent eternity at the shores of the Indian ocean. Lucifer liked it here. It reminded him of Membata.

"I am here for Sam," he said eventually, tearing his eyes from the water to look at his brother.

Gabriel's brow creased with confusion. "How is you being here benefiting Sam?"

"It doesn't," Lucifer said. "It would be better if we were together, but I am trying to be a better man for him, and that means doing my duty to Heaven."

Gabriel smiled. "I never thought I would say this after everything that happened, but you are a good man, Lucifer. Sam made you a good man. You returned to the cage for the sake of the world, leaving your love behind. There is no greater sacrifice than that. And as for Sam, he knows how good a man you are. You have nothing to prove to him."

Lucifer wanted to believe Gabriel's words, but he still felt he had much to atone for. He had done great damage and it was not yet washed away.

"Go to him for a while," Gabriel suggested, "and return when you feel ready. You need to find a balance between your perceived duty to Heaven and your duty to Sam."

Lucifer nodded. "I think you may be right."

Gabriel smiled. "I'm always right, you just don't always see it."

With one last look out over the ocean, Lucifer left heaven.

After stopping at a diner and picking up a meal for Sam, Lucifer made his way to their motel. What he found there made a feeling of unease settle over him. The gun cleaning kit was still out, open on the bed, and there was a half empty cup of coffee on the table, but there was no sign of Sam.

"Sam?" Lucifer asked, looking around the room. He checked the bathroom but found it empty too.

He walked over to the table, looking for a clue as to where he went, but found none. Without another second's thought, he left and went to Bobby's. He manifested in the study, much to Castiel and Bobby's surprise.

"Damn, you angels and your popping in wherever you please," Bobby said, shaking his head. "I'm just getting used to Cas doing it."

"Where's Sam?"

Bobby frowned "What do you mean? I thought he was with you."

"I went to the motel. It appears he left in a hurry."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "I thought he was with Dean."

Bobby pulled his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't like this. Something doesn't feel right."

Lucifer stiffened and then his eyes went wide.

Bobby looked over at him, eyes tight with concern. "What is it?"

Lucifer's expression hardened. "Dean is praying. Raphael has them."

"Where?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know!" Lucifer's hands fisted at his sides. He was helpless. He could hear the pain in Dean's prayer. He didn't want to imagine the things Raphael was doing to them, to Sam. He felt like he was being torn apart by his rage and agony. It was his greatest fear coming to fruition. Sam had been taken.

"Gabriel!" Lucifer shouted. "Get down here, now!"

A second later, Gabriel arrived. He spun on his heels to face Lucifer. "You rang?"

"Raphael has them. He has Sam."

Gabriel's posture straightened, and his face went hard. "What do you want me to do?"

"Something, anything, help me find them. We can search the globe."

"That won't work, Lucifer, and you know it. Raphael is smart. He won't stay in one place long. We don't have a chance."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"I know you don't want to hear it, but maybe I should return to Heaven. Guard the gates for them."

Lucifer shook his head. "I can't lose him again."

"I will watch for him, guide him when arrives. I won't let anything happen to him. I will keep him safe in Heaven."

"No! I'm not letting this happen. He's not going to die! We'll find a way to save him."

"Lucifer, I should go," Gabriel said solemnly. "In case they arrive."

"Fine," Lucifer spit. "Go. I'll find them without you."

With a rustling of wings, Gabriel was gone. Lucifer turned his attention to Castiel and Bobby who were standing watching him with expressions of deep concern and something less easily identified.

"This is your fault!" Lucifer said, turning to face Castiel. "If you hadn't put those sigils on their ribs we would have been able to find them by now."

Castiel shrunk back under Lucifer's intense gaze.

"Now easy, boys," Bobby said, putting up his hands. "Lucifer, I know you're upset, but you're taking this out on the wrong person."

Lucifer swiped a hand across the table, knocking it clean of books, sending papers flying through the air. "I need Sam!"

"And we'll find him, but you need to calm down if we're going to do it."

"What do you suggest we do, sit around and wait for them to arrive at Heaven's gates?"

Castiel glanced at Bobby and then to Lucifer. "I have an idea."

"What is it?" Lucifer asked sharply.

Castiel shifted. "It might not work, but I would like to try something. I won't be long."

Before Lucifer could question him further, Castiel disappeared.

Lucifer's hand came up to tangle in his hair. He had never felt so at a loss in his long life. Sam was gone, and he didn't have the first idea of how to find him. Gabriel was right, Raphael wouldn't hold them in one place long. He would be on the move. Lucifer could scour the globe, but Raphael would always be one step ahead of him.

"We'll find him, Lucifer," Bobby said softly.

Lucifer turned to him, and the obvious agony in his eyes made Bobby suck in a breath. "How do you know?" Lucifer asked, he felt like a child seeking reassurance.

"I've seen them boys get out of all kinds of messes before, they will make it out this time, too."

Lucifer sighed. "I can't lose him, Bobby."

"And you won't. They're strong and they're together. Dean will take care of him."

Lucifer tried to take comfort in that, but it wasn't easy. Dean was only a man going against an archangel. There was nothing he could do to protect Sam if Raphael was to set his mind to hurting him.

Lucifer heard the sounds of an angel's approach and he looked up to see Castiel had returned, and he wasn't alone. Standing beside him was a disheveled man with a scrubby beard.

"Chuck!" Bobby said, sounding stunned.

The newcomer gaped at Lucifer. "Holy... wow... you're Lucifer."

"You brought the prophet," Lucifer said, addressing Castiel.

Castiel nodded. "I thought an insider's perspective would help."

"You did good, Cas," Bobby said.

"Can you see them?" Lucifer asked Chuck.

Chuck looked astounded at being spoken to directly by Lucifer. On any other occasion, Lucifer would be sympathetic to his plight, but in that moment, all he could think of was Sam, and the second's pause before Chuck answered was too long.

"Speak!" he snapped.

Chuck nodded jerkily. "Yeah, yeah. I can see them."

"How is Sam?" Lucifer asked.

Chuck raised his hands. "Don't smite me, okay? I don't control it, I just see it."

Lucifer's jaw tightened. "You are trying my patience."

"He's not doing so good. Neither of them are."

"Any clues about where they are?" Bobby asked.

"It looks like some kind of prison. It's empty apart from them as far as I can see, and it's... nasty."

"Bobby, the alpha's Crowley was taking, they were in an prison, were they not?" Castiel said.

Bobby clapped his hands together. "You're right. That abandoned place in Missouri."

"You're sure?" Lucifer asked, his hands fisting at his sides.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, it's on the north side of Evergreen."

"Castiel, show me," Lucifer commanded.

"Hold up!" Bobby said. "I'm coming, too."

Lucifer nodded jerkily. The more people the better prepared to help Sam they would be.

He snapped his wrist and his sword slipped into his hand. He was ready.

"Dean!"

The sound of Sam calling to him tore at Dean. He felt sick. Sam needed him, and he was trapped in this cell without even a paperclip to his name. He had checked his pockets twice for his lock pick, but Raphael had apparently fleeced them when she'd knocked them out. He had tried everything to escape his cell, but all he had for his trouble was bruised hands from beating on the bars. He had prayed to them all in turn, Lucifer, Gabriel and Castiel, and he had received no response.

Raphael hadn't come back to him again, which meant Sam had no reprieve from whatever it was that she was doing to him.

He sat in the corner of his cell and brought his knees up to his chest. Fisting his hands in his hair, he tried not to think of what was happening to Sam.

After an indeterminable amount of time, he heard footsteps coming along the hall. Bracing himself for more of Raphael's taunting, he stood up and moved to the bars. But what he saw there wasn't Raphael or even Sam, it was Castiel and he looked livid.

"Cas, man, get me out of here," Dean said in a rush. "She's hurting Sam."

Castiel gripped the door of the cell and tugged. The bolts sheared away, and Dean was freed. Not wasting a second to thank Castiel or to see whether he was following, he ran down the corridor and through the door.

He came out in a hall of sorts. It may once have been a recreation room or canteen for prisoners, but now it had been given a more macabre purpose. There was blood smeared on the floor and walls, and it stank of copper. Dean's eyes fell on the center of the room, and his heart sank. Sam was shackled to a bed, and he was a mess. Bobby was beside him, and he was talking in a gentle voice. "You're okay, Sam. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

Dean sprinted over to them, and he joined Bobby in unstrapping the leather restraints holding Sam to the bed.

Sam's eyes were almost closed; all that Dean could see was a sliver of white. His breath was coming in rasps and his skin was sheened with sweat and blood. Dean felt sick at the sight of it. Sam's chest looked like it had been through a meat grinder; it was a mess of torn skin and flesh. His fingers were crooked, and his right foot was turned in which made Dean think his hip was dislocated if not broken.

"Jesus, Sammy," he said, thanking his rarely lucky stars that Sam was unconscious.

As if Dean's voice had been the trigger Sam needed, his eyes opened, and he rolled his head to look at Dean.

He licked his lips and spoke in a whisper. "Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Dean reached out and touched Sam's head; it seemed to be the only part of him not battered and bleeding.

"Did she hurt you?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine."

Sam's eyes closed for a moment and a look of relief crossed his features. "Lucifer?"

"He's here, too." Dean looked around the room for the first time and saw Lucifer by the opposite wall. He was facing off against Raphael, and they both had angel blades drawn. The voices, which till then had been a murmur at the back of Dean's mind, were suddenly clear.

"You will not kill me, Lucifer," Raphael said. "I am your brother."

"You were my brother," Lucifer said in a voice heavy with his fury, "until you laid a hand on Sam."

"A human," Raphael spat. "You would choose one of them over family."

"Sam is my family!"

"Lucifer, we need a little help here," Dean said. "Sam needs you."

He turned his attention back to Sam. "You're going to be fine. Lucifer will take care of you."

Sam nodded jerkily and winced.

Dean tugged off his jacket and laid it under Sam's head. "Just hold on a little longer."

Behind them, there was an almighty crash, and the floor shook. Dean dragged his eyes from his ailing brother and looked at Lucifer. He had Raphael pinned to the wall with his blade at his throat.

"Lucifer, please," Raphael said. "Forgive me."

Lucifer shook his head, his teeth gritted with fury. "It is our father that deals with forgiveness. I am the one you come to for retribution." He leaned his weight on the hilt of his sword, and the blade sliced through Raphael's throat. There was a sick scraping sound as the blade reached bone, and Dean winced.

"Lucifer?" The voice was so soft it was almost silent. It seemed to have taken the last of Sam's strength, as his eyes rolled back, and his head tilted to the side.

"Sam? Sammy? Wake up, now!" Seeing no response from Sam, not even a twitch of an eye, Dean shouted out to Lucifer.

Lucifer was there instantly, hovering at Sam's side, carding a hand through his hair.

"He's not... He can't be..." Dean couldn't finished the sentence.

"He's alive," Lucifer said in a soft voice.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He knew if Sam was to die, Lucifer would be able to bring him back, but he didn't want Sam to have to go through that, not again.

"Heal him!" he ordered.

Lucifer cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and closed his eyes. There was a second's pregnant silence, and then Sam's eyes snapped open.

"Sam," Lucifer crooned, pulling Sam against his chest and burying his face in the crook of Sam's neck. It was such an intimate pose that Dean felt uncomfortable witnessing it, but he couldn't look away. He needed to see Sam to reassure himself that he was okay.

Lucifer slipped his arms under Sam, cradling him to his chest, and then a moment later, they were gone, leaving Dean standing alone with Bobby and Castiel.

"Where do you think they went?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked at Dean, face emotionless. "I do not think that is our place to know."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Dean ran a hand through his hair. He missed being the one to comfort Sam. It was his job to take care of him. Sighing, he looked to Castiel. "Let's go home."

Castiel placed a hand on each on their shoulders, and with a rustling of wings, they were gone.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Lucifer was lying on the bed, and Sam lie beside him with his head pillowed on Lucifer's chest. Lucifer was running his hands through Sam's hair, and it was making Sam drowsy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lucifer asked yet again.

"I'm fine, Lucifer, you healed me."

Sam's head bobbed as Lucifer drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "It is more than your physical wellbeing that I am asking after."

Sam considered carefully. Physically he was well, Lucifer had healed all his injuries, but mentally, he was feeling delicate. He had suffered under Raphael, and it would take a while for him to really believe he was safe again. Having Lucifer beside him helped.

"I am still a little stunned," Sam admitted. "I thought I knew pain, but... what she did, it was different."

He felt Lucifer stiffen under him. "I will never forgive myself for what happened."

Sam nuzzled into Lucifer's chest a little closer. "It wasn't your fault."

"Raphael took you because of me."

"It doesn't matter why it happened, it's over now."

Sam didn't blame Lucifer for what had happened. He was no more in control of the situation than Bobby or Castiel were. Raphael had played them all, expertly. Mimicking Bobby's voice was a stroke of genius.

Lucifer pressed a kiss to Sam's crown. "It's over and you are safe." Sam knew he was speaking to himself as much as he was Sam. He was reassuring himself that Sam was well. To counterpoint his words, he tightened his arms around Sam slightly.

For Sam, the very worst part of what had happened hadn't been the pain or the taunts, though they had been unbearable, it was knowing his brother had been through worse and for longer. He'd been on the rack for thirty years before he'd broken. Sam had never blamed or thought less of Dean for that, but now he felt a sense of awe for his brother's strength. It felt like Sam had been under her knife for days, when in fact it had only been hours. He could never have lasted thirty years as Dean had.

"Sam," Lucifer said in a thoughtful tone. "I have a question."

Sam moved so he could see Lucifer's face. Lucifer's lips were pressed into a hard line, and there were deep lines in his brow.

"What?"

"Why didn't you pray for me?"

"I don't know," he said. "I guess I was caught off guard. She knocked me out almost as soon as she arrived."

"You misunderstand me. I meant why didn't you pray when Raphael was hurting you?"

Sam sighed and buried his face against Lucifer's chest again. "I didn't want you to hear my pain," he said quietly. "It was bad enough that I was hurting; I didn't want you to hurt, too."

Lucifer ran a finger over Sam's cheek. "I wish you had. At least then I would have known you were alive. I don't think you understand how scared I was, Sam. I thought I'd lost you. I..."

Sam looked up at his face. "You what?"

"I cannot be without you."

Sam smiled. "You won't be without me. I'll never leave you. I promise."

Lucifer's lips curved into a smile. "And I will never give you cause to."

Sam shifted so he was eye level with Lucifer, and he leaned in so he could feel Lucifer's cool breath against his lips. Lucifer tilted his head forward, and their lips met. Of all the things Sam had experienced, including Heaven and Hell, nothing could compare to kissing Lucifer. It washed away everything else, until all that existed was the two of them in their perfect bubble of peace, but for once the feeling of peace didn't last. A shudder swept through Sam, and he pulled away, resting his forehead against Lucifer's.

"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked.

"I'm still processing it all. It's still kinda fresh in my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucifer asked.

"I don't know what to say, where to begin. I don't know if I'm ready."

Lucifer nodded. "I understand." He ran the back of his hand over Sam's cheek. "We can wait until you're ready."

Sam nodded and nuzzled into Lucifer's neck. When he spoke, his words were muffled. "Raphael told me things... about Dean."

Lucifer sighed heavily. "So now you know."

"It's true, then, what she told me? What Dean did."

Lucifer rested his chin on Sam's head. "What did Raphael tell you?"

"That Dean was a killer, that he wasn't just killing monsters, but humans too if they got in his way."

"I wish I could tell you differently, but I am afraid Raphael was telling the truth."

Sam's chest contracted painfully. Part of him was hoping it wasn't true, that Lucifer would tell him she had been lying just to hurt him, but now he knew the truth and there was no going back.

"I did this to him. I left him, and he fell apart."

Lucifer ran his hand up and down Sam's arm. "He made his own choices, Sam. You can't blame yourself for them."

"But can't I? It's my fault, isn't it? If I'd been here..."

"If you'd been here, you would have been miserable. I heard what happened to you in the week we were apart, Gabriel told me. You could not have lived like that."

"I should have done more. Maybe if I'd spoken to him before I left, explained more..."

"It would have changed nothing," Lucifer said. "Dean chose to go down that road. It is not your fault."

Sam pushed up from Lucifer's chest and he got to his feet. Pacing the length of the room, he ran his hands through his hair. "This is all so messed up!"

Lucifer leaned forward on the bed. "Who are you really angry at Sam, yourself or Dean?"

Sam laughed. "Dean? Why would I be angry at Dean. He wasn't the one that failed here, I was."

"You're wrong," Lucifer said baldly. "You didn't fail your brother, he failed you. You trusted him to go on without you, and he chose a darker path."

"You don't understand," Sam said. "I should have been there."

"At the expense of your own happiness? Be honest with me, Sam, now you know the truth, does it change the way you feel about your brother?"

"No!" Sam said immediately. "Dean's my brother, and I love him. Nothing can change that."

"Then why does it matter?"

"Because this is my fault. I did this to him. Every life he took, it's because of me. As if there weren't already enough deaths on my account."

Lucifer got to his feet and caught Sam around the hip as he passed in his pacing. "After Dean was taken to Hell, you became embroiled with Ruby, and because of that I was freed. Do you blame Dean for that?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you blame yourself for things Dean did without you? Look at me, Sam. This is not your fault, and I won't have you saying it is."

Sam loved Lucifer, he loved him more than life itself, but he just didn't understand. This _was_ Sam's fault and he was the one that would have to atone for what he'd set in motion.

"Sam," Lucifer probed when Sam didn't speak. "Please."

Sam couldn't lie to Lucifer, they had sworn never to lie to one another, so he stayed silent.

Lucifer saw his silence for what it was, and he sighed. "Do you regret your choice to come into the cage now?"

Sam shook his head. "No, never, I just regret the way I went about it. Maybe if I'd talked to him first, it would have been different."

"Do you really believe that?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what I believe anymore. All I know is that I have to make things right for Dean."

Dean sat on the back porch of Bobby's place and he brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips. Taking a deep draw on the bottle, he sighed. He was thinking of Sam, and wondering how he was doing. He wanted to see him, but he didn't think Lucifer would be cool with him crashing their time together, especially when it was limited. Though there was a chance Lucifer wouldn't return to Heaven after everything that had happened.

He heard the door click open behind him, and he turned expecting to see Bobby or Castiel, or maybe Chuck who was still loitering around the house, but it was Sam standing there. The last time he had seen Sam he'd been drenched in his own blood and cradled in Lucifer's arms. He half expected him to look the same now, but Sam was clean and dressed in a fresh shirt and jeans, and looking robustly well. Dean breathed an internal sigh of relief. He hadn't believed Sam was okay until he saw him.

He scooted along the step, so Sam could sit down. Sam sank gracefully onto the step, stretching his longs legs out in front of him.

Dean took another swig of whiskey and waited, sure a lecture about drinking from Sam was sure to follow, but none came. Instead, Sam reached over a tugged the bottle from Dean's hand and took a swig.

"Hell of a day," he said conversationally.

Dean huffed a laugh. "You can say that again."

Sam pushed a hand through his hair and looked out over the scrap yard.

"Where's Lucifer?" Dean asked.

"Inside," Sam said simply.

Dean nodded; he had known Lucifer had to be close if Sam was here. He was a little surprised Lucifer had let Sam out of his eye-line for even this long. His natural over-protectiveness had to have increased a hundredfold after what had happened.

"You okay?" Sam asked, breaking into Dean's thoughts.

"I'm pretty sure it should be me asking you that."

Sam shrugged. "I'm fine."

Dean sighed. "I know a little about torture, and I know you can't be fine after everything that she did to you, Sam."

Sam turned to look at his brother, and there was something in his eyes that made Dean sad. There was darkness there that Sam had no business touching. Dean knew that darkness as he saw it in his own eyes in the mirror every day since Hell. It was what happened after you experienced the knife.

"You really want me to talk about it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. It had taken him a long time to admit to Sam he remembered Hell, and he had never found the strength to really talk about what he'd suffered there. He had no right to expect Sam to be able to talk about what he couldn't.

Sam took another swig from the bottle of whiskey then handed it back to Dean.

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Dean didn't know what Sam was thinking, but his thoughts were occupied with what Raphael had told him. She had said she was going to tell Sam what he had done after Sam had taken the dive. He hoped against hope that she had been lying or that, God forgive him, that Sam had been too out of it with pain to hear her. He didn't know how to ask without initiating a conversation about the very thing he was trying to hide. He didn't think she had told him. If she had, there was no way Sam would be sitting beside him sharing a bottle.

Sam leaned against the balustrade post and looked at Dean. "If there's something you want to know, Dean, just ask."

"How do you...?"

Sam smiled. "You've got that look on your face."

It was good to know that their connection hadn't severed enough that Sam couldn't read Dean anymore, but it was a pain in the ass that it had to manifest now when Dean was trying to avoid the subject.

Biting the bullet, he spoke up. "Raphael said she was going to tell you stuff..."

Sam nodded. "She told me a lot of things."

"About what I did?"

Sam turned so he was looking Dean full in the face. "She told me what I did to you."

Dean's brow furrowed with confusion. "What you did to me?" He couldn't think of anything Sam had done to him.

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck. "She told me what happened after I left."

Dean felt a prickling in his eyes. It was his worst fear confirmed; Sam knew. He would have given almost anything to have Sam remain oblivious. Now he knew, there was no way things could ever go back to the way they had been. One thing that didn't make sense was the fact Sam was still sitting beside him and not cringing away. Maybe she hadn't told him everything.

"What did she tell you?" Dean asked, scared of the answer.

"That after I left, you went down a dark road. That you changed." Sam looked him dead in the eyes. "I know it all, Dean."

Dean shook his head jerkily. "You can't know. You wouldn't be looking at me like that if you knew."

Sam turned away and looked out over the scrap-yard once again. "She told me about the arachne victims in Rhode Island. She told me about the woman used as a human shield, she told me about the family in Nebraska... Do you want me to go on?"

Dean felt like he had been sucker-punched in the gut. It wasn't all he had done, but it sounded like Sam had been given the full lowdown. He didn't want Sam to go on. He didn't want to hear a list of all the things he had done. The memories were bad enough to deal with alone.

"I don't understand," Dean said in a shaky voice. "How can you say it all like that? How can you even stand to be near me knowing what I have done?"

For a moment, Dean thought Sam was going to cry, but he merely drew a hitching breath and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I could ask you the same question. How can you stand to be near me after what I did to you?"

Dean's brow creased with confusion. "What did you do?"

"I did this to you. I left you to fight alone. I didn't think of what me leaving would do to you, and Dean..." He looked Dean dead in the eye. "I am so sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to make up for it, but you have to know, I never imagined me leaving would do that to you."

Dean was in shock. Not only did Sam know it all, but he was trying to blame himself for it. "Sammy, there's nothing to forgive," he said. "What I did, what happened to me, it wasn't your fault."

"If I'd been here..."

"If you'd been here, you would have been miserable," Dean said. "You were a wreck without Lucifer. I know that better than anyone. You can't live your life for someone else. You have to live it for yourself, and that's what you did. I made the choice to go it alone, and every bad choice that came after."

"Why did you do it?" Sam asked. "I understand the lines get a little blurry sometimes, but Raphael said you were on a mission. What were you trying to gain?"

Dean chewed his lip. He didn't want to tell Sam about his plan to earn himself a Hellbound ticket. Sam would take it as further cause to blame himself.

"Tell me," Sam said firmly.

Dean felt a lump building in his throat and he swallowed convulsively. "I wanted to see you again, Sam. I figured if I earned myself a ticket downstairs, I'd have a chance."

Though it was Dean that felt like he was going to make like a baby and start bawling his eyes out at any moment, it was Sam that broke. He bowed at the waist and fisted his hands in his hair. His breaths came in rasps and his shoulders shook.

"Sammy?" Dean reached out a tentative hand and laid it on his brother's shoulder.

Sam raised his head, and tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I didn't know... I never would have..."

"I know," Dean said gently. "It wasn't your fault."

Sam's face contorted, and for a moment, Dean thought Sam was going to slug him.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he asked through gritted teeth. "I'm the one that did this to you!" He got to his feet and marched away through the stacks of junkers. Dean followed, but when he caught Sam's arm, Sam wrenched away from him and continued walking.

"Sam?" Dean called after him, but Sam merely waved a hand and disappeared around a stack of cars. Dean wanted to go after his brother, but he didn't know what he would say to him if he did. Sam obviously wanted to be alone, so Dean turned and sank down onto the porch steps again.

When Sam came back, he would be waiting.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

Sam didn't come back into the house that day. After an hour's impatient waiting, Lucifer went to find him, and as they didn't come back, Dean assumed they'd gone back to their motel together.

The next morning, Sam and Lucifer arrived, and Sam acted for all intents and purposes as if nothing had happened—as if he hadn't been tortured almost to death. As if the conversation between him and Dean had never happened. Dean didn't much like it, but he wasn't known for open, honest conversations, so he didn't force them on his brother.

Two days after their rescue and Raphael's destruction, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of coffee, when Lucifer arrived. He sat down and placed his hands on the table.

Dean looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Where's Sam?"

"He is on his way here. I wanted to talk to you alone, so I told him I would meet him here."

Dean leaned back in his seat. "What do you want to talk about?" It occurred to him that it was rare for Lucifer to forgo time with Sam, so whatever he wanted to talk about had to be important.

"It has occurred to me that you may be..." Lucifer seemed to search for the right word, "concerned about your recent actions and the repercussions."

"You mean my one-way ticket to Hell?" Dean asked. "Yeah, the thought did occur to me."

Lucifer nodded. "I thought it might. I want to reassure you."

Dean raised a hand. "It's okay, Lucifer. I know where I'm headed, and I'm okay with it. It won't be anything worse than I've already suffered."

"That is where you are wrong," Lucifer said quietly.

Dean felt a heavy weight settle over him. Was Lucifer saying it was going to be worse than he thought? "I can handle it," he said stoically.

Lucifer smiled. "You misunderstand me. I mean that Hell is not your intended destination."

Dean raised his eyebrow. "You know that?"

Lucifer steepled his hands under his chin. "I am an archangel, Dean. I know many things, some of which you should know, others you should not. One thing you should know is that wherever you are bound after death, Heaven or Hell, I shall make sure you are not left there alone. I shall ensure that your heaven is with your brother."

"You can control that?"

Lucifer smiled. "Of course I can. Castiel plucked you out of Hell, didn't he? I am more than capable of doing the same."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. It was a huge weight off for him to know he would not spend eternity in the pit. "Thanks, Lucifer. Seriously, thanks."

Lucifer smiled. "You are very welcome. Now, I believe Sam is on his way. I can hear the car. I will leave you to your breakfast, and I will see you again soon."

Lucifer stood and a question came to Dean. "Lucifer, have you told Sam any of this."

Lucifer shook his head. "I don't think the idea that you could not be bound for Heaven has occurred to Sam. I haven't told him as I don't want him to feel any more guilt for what has happened that he already does."

That said, Lucifer vanished. Dean settled back in his chair and tried to act natural as Sam swung open the door and stepped inside, smiling. "Hey."

Sam poured himself a mug of coffee and came to sit opposite Dean at the table. "Where's Bobby and Cas?"

"They're checking out a case in Oregon. Some ballerina twirled herself to death."

Sam looked puzzled. "How's that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Bobby only gave me the cliff-notes. I offered to go with, but he said he and Cas had it covered."

Dean frowned. Despite the fact it was his fault they had become so close in the first place, he felt a little excluded by Bobby and Castiel these days. They were their own unit, and they had their way of working together sorted. What with them off on their own and Sam and Lucifer the way they were, Dean felt a little left out alone.

"I'm sure they'll be okay," Sam said, misconstruing Dean's frown. "They'll call if they need us."

Dean nodded. "How about us? Got any cases worth looking into?"

Sam shook his head. "Not much. There are some demon signs in Idaho, but I can get Lucifer to look into them. He's got Crowley pretty much under control, so if they're wreaking havoc, it can be dealt with easily enough."

Dean sat back in his chair. "So what are we going to do with ourselves today? You up for poker or..." The phone rang at that moment and Sam stood to answer it. "Or you could answer that."

"Singer's Salvage," Sam said formally, and then his face broke into a smile. "Rufus, good to hear from you." He was silent for a moment and then he laughed. "Yeah, it's kind of a long story, but I'm back now. What have you got going on?"

He picked up a pad of paper and began jotting down notes. "Rhode Island... Okay... And how many have there been? Right. We'll get to it. You take care out there, Rufus." He set the phone down and looked at Dean. "We've got a case."

Dean brightened at the news. He was in the mood to take out some fugly. "What is it?"

"A bunch of women have disappeared in Bristol, Rhode Island. Rufus is bogged down with a vamp nest in Florida and he can't get to it. I said we'd... What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean had paled at the mention of the place. Bristol was where he'd encountered the Arachne. It was the place he'd killed all the men that had been infected. It wasn't a place he wanted to return to in a hurry.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. "I've been there before, Sam. Rhode Island is one of the places I went when you were gone. That was the Arachne hunt."

Sam sunk down onto a chair. "The men you killed."

"They were all infected," Dean said defensively.

Sam held his hands up. "I know. I'm not judging."

"What's happening now?"

"Women have gone missing, all in that one town. Look, Dean, you don't have to do this. I can call Lucifer and we can take care of it."

Dean was sorely tempted to let Sam and Lucifer go and deal with whatever was taking the women, but the whole thing smacked of unfinished business, his unfinished business. He must have missed something the last time he was there. That or he hadn't taken care of the problem the first time.

"I'll do it," he said slowly.

"You don't have to."

"No, I really do. This feels like my fault. I have to go back."

" _Can_ you go back?" Sam asked.

Dean's irritation surged. "I'm not a coward, Sam!"

"I know that. What I meant was can you go back without being lynched by the locals? You were there before, and you took out those men. Will people recognize you?"

Dean considered. He had met with a fair few people in the town when he worked the case, and even more worrying was Brenna, Roy's wife. She not only knew Dean, but she knew the truth about him—that he was a hunter. He wanted to go anyway though. He had to face the place again, and take care of whatever was causing the disappearances, or he would never be able to forgive himself.

"I have to go."

He saw the acceptance in Sam's eyes and was unsurprised when he nodded and go to his feet again. "I should call Lucifer."

"Can we drive? Bristol is pretty spread out, and we'll need the car to get around." It was more than that though. Dean was willing to face the place again, but he was in no rush. The drive would give him a chance to come to terms with it all.

"Sure we can. I'll just let Lucifer know where we're going to be, and then we can head out."

They came into town around dusk, and Dean directed Sam to the abandoned cabin he had used as a base before. They could have checked into a motel, the town had plenty as it was a tourist trap, but Dean didn't want to risk bumping into someone he'd met last time he was in town.

Sam dropped Dean off at the cabin and then went in search of food for them both. While he was gone, Dean did his best to make the cabin a little more hospitable for them both.

When Sam got back, laden with food, Dean was propping up the decrepit table for them to eat at. Sam dropped the food down and pulled up a chair.

"So, I know you don't really want to talk about this, but I need to know what happened last time you were here."

"You already know," Dean said testily. "There was an Arachne targeting men in town and I killed it followed by them."

"Where was it?" Sam asked. "And how did you kill it?"

"It had holed up at an old boathouse on the outskirts of town. It was trapping the men there. It can make these crazy strong webs. I thought I'd killed it last time; I took the bitch's head off, but maybe they need something special. "

Sam shook his head. "No, decapitation usually works. There's a chance it wasn't alone, I guess, though Arachne are usually solitary creatures." He clapped his hands together. "Okay. We need to check out the boathouse. If it's an Arachne again, it's probably using the same place. Any idea why it would be targeting women this time?"

Dean shrugged. "Variety of diet maybe. I don't know. All I know is that the bitch should be dead."

Sam pulled his meal out of the sack and began to fork up the salad, flicking through his father's journal as he ate. Dean knew Sam already knew everything in it and more, as Lucifer had been teaching him, but he accepted Sam was giving him some space to think and he was grateful for it. He unwrapped his burger and ate, his mind mulling over the last time he was here and what would happen this time.

Dean didn't sleep well that night. His mind presented him with images of Roy's face just before he had died. He tossed and turned and tried in vain to redirect his thoughts to anything other than the executions he had performed.

He was up well before Sam, but he didn't dare risk going into town to get some breakfast for them. Instead, he sat at the table and flipped through his father's journal.

When Sam woke, he went out to get them breakfast, and while they ate, he shared his plans for the day. He wanted to see the files on the missing women, so he was going to suit up and go by the police station.

Dean waited impatiently at the cabin while Sam went out, feeling less than useless. He thought about going by the boathouse alone, but Sam had taken the Impala and he would have been too vulnerable to meeting people on foot.

As the car rumbled up the drive to the cabin, Dean got to his feet and opened the door. Sam climbed out of the car and pulled out a box from the passenger side.

"I got it all," he said. "Five women have been taken so far, and all their details are in here."

Dean nodded and then paused as he heard another car's approach. Sam turned back and cursed as the light blue sedan pulled to a halt behind the Impala.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked politely as a woman climbed out of the car.

The woman marched past Sam, disregarding him completely, and approached Dean. Her hand shot out and she slapped him across the cheek. "Where's Roy?" she demanded, gripping the collar of his shirt. "What did you do to him?"

Dean felt sick. It was Brenna, Roy's wife. "I'm sorry," he said. "Really."

"I don't want your apologies. I want to know where he is!"

Sam stepped forward and untangled her hands from Dean's shirt. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you what's going on," Brenna spat. "I've rumbled you and your game."

Sam looked at Dean and there was an unspoken demand for information in his eyes.

"This is Brenna," Dean said. "Roy Dobb's wife. Roy was one of the victims last time."

"Victim?" Brenna said with a tinge of hysteria in her tone. "Is that what you call him? It's a good word, I guess. He was a victim, your victim." She turned to Sam. "I knew it. I knew when you came into the office that you weren't a real cop, with your cheap suit and rock star name. And I knew I had to follow you, but I never imagined you would be in league with _him."_ She sneered at Dean. "What are you even doing here?"

"I came back because it wasn't over," Dean said. "I thought it was, but I was wrong."

"What about Roy?" she asked. "What did you do to him?"

Dean knew he had to tread a fine line. He couldn't tell her the truth, she already knew too much, but he had to give her some closure."

"Roy was a hero," he said softly.

She clapped a hand to her mouth. "He's..." She cleared her throat. "He is dead then. I knew, I knew when he didn't come back that he had to have died, but I didn't want to believe. What happened?"

"You remember what I told you about what I was hunting?" Dean said. Sam's eyes widened as he processed the fact that Dean had told someone the secret Brenna needed him more.

"The spider thing," Brenna said.

"Yeah. It got Roy. I tried to save him, but I was too late." It wasn't exactly a lie, he had tried to save him and it had been too late, the venom was already working through Roy when he got there.

Brenna's eyes swam with tears. "I didn't want to believe..." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Dean, crying into his shoulder. He felt like a world class jerk as his arms wound around her shoulders and he patted her back. Here he was, comforting the widow whose husband he had killed. Sam locked eyes with him over her back, and he knew Sam was thinking the exact same thing.

After Brenna left, Sam and Dean went to the boathouse, and they saw that it was a gutted shell of what it had been. They stepped inside the ruins, keeping their guns trained on the floor, ready for action.

"There's no one here," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "No one at all. Not even the bodies."

"Well, we couldn't leave them around for the civilians to find," a dry voice said.

They spun on their heels to face the newcomers. There were two men standing in the doorway, the guns on their hips and the machetes in their hands making it clear they were hunters. They looked familiar, and Dean struggled to put a name to the faces.

"Walt? Roy?" Sam said. "What are you doing here."

As soon as Sam said the names, Dean's mind caught up. These were two of the many hunters they had met back at the Roadhouse before the place had been burned to the ground. It had been years since they'd seen each other, and it didn't look like absence had accrued any affection for Sam and Dean from the others.

"We're here cleaning up your brother's mess again," Walt said, stepping into the room. "Like we didn't have enough to be doing already."

"This has nothing to do with Dean," Sam lied.

Roy shook his head and tutted. "Now, Sam, you really should lie to old friends. It's not polite. We know exactly whose fault it is, since this isn't the first time we had to clear up after him. While you were holed up with the Devil, we were out fixing the messes your brother left behind."

Walt nodded. "Yeah, Dean, and what a mess it was. We roll into town, ready to take care of the Arachne, and what do we find? A house full of bodies all dead of a head shot. How were we supposed to explain that to the cops? No, we had a mess on our hands."

"What did you do?" Dean asked.

"We cleared up after you," Roy said. "Burned down the house with them inside."

Dean nodded. "I guess I owe you some thanks then."

"That's the least of what you owe us," Walt said angrily.

Dean frowned. "What else do you want?"

"How's about an explanation for what you and your brother did? See, hunters talk. Tim and Reggie filled us in on it all, the apocalypse, demon blood, the lot. We were pleased when we heard you took a trip downstairs, Sam, as it saved us the job of coming after you. Then, as if all that wasn't bad enough, we get news from Ellen that you're back and you brought your boyfriend, too."

Dean inwardly cursed Ellen. Why did she feel the need to spread the story of Sam and Lucifer throughout the hunting world? As if they didn't have enough people after them already with the leviathan situation.

"There is no explanation for what I did," Sam said. "None that you want to hear anyway. And you're right, I took a trip downstairs with Lucifer, and we're back. Now, I know what you'd really like to do now is pull that gun from your pocket and blow me away, but you can't. You know why? Because my lover is Lucifer, the Devil. You think you've got problems now, wait till you have him on your ass."

Roy stepped forward, his hand dropped to his gun.

Sam raised his arms, presenting himself as an open target. "Go ahead, kill me. But when I come back, and I will, I'll be pissed."

Walt tugged on Roy's sleeve. "C'mon, Roy, let's leave these two devil lovers to sort out their own mess. We've got bigger problems."

Sam laughed as they backed out of the door. "You're damn right you do."

Dean and Sam stood at the door and watched them scramble into their car and drive away.

"Think they'll be back?" Sam asked.

Dean laughed. "Not a chance since you threatened to sic your boyfriend on them. I think you've got them running scared."

Sam smiled. "Good. Let's hope they get caught by a hungry leviathan."

Dean frowned. "That doesn't sound like you. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Sam was silent for a long moment and then he shook his head. "Nothing important. Not anymore anyway."

Dean wasn't entirely satisfied with Sam's answer, but at that moment, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, so his voice was cautious as he answered. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's Brenna. Can you come by the house? I need to talk to you." There was something in her tone that played on Dean's instincts.

"I'll be right there," he said. He hung up the phone and turned to Sam. "That was Brenna. She wants me to go by."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"She's in trouble, I could tell."

Sam pulled out the clip of his gun, checked it and then snapped it back in. "Let's go."

When they got to Brenna's the house was in darkness but there was a light on in the shed. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance and then stepped around the side of the house to the shed. Before they reached it, the door swung open and Brenna stood on the threshold. She had been crying and she looked at Dean as he stepped under the porch light.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What you did to Roy..." she said tearfully. "Is it true?"

Dean swallowed thickly. He didn't know what to say to her. At that moment, Roy stepped out of the shadows and slammed Sam into the wall. He fell to the floor, unconscious. Dean knelt beside him, but Roy yanked him away and pushed him against the wall with a hand at his throat.

"Answer the question, Dean."

Dean felt himself being slammed into the wall and dark spots danced in front of his eyes. Roy sneered at him again and struck out, sending Dean into darkness.

Dean's eyes opened to a dimly lit room he guessed was the shed. He was bound tight to the wall by the webs. As he blinked and looked around, Roy's face came into view. He was horribly changed from the last time Dean had saw him. His mottled face was laced with black veins and his eyes were milky looking. There was a neat hole on his forehead where Dean's bullet had penetrated.

"You got to admit I look good, Dean," he said. "Well, except for your little souvenir. He pointed to the bullet wound on his forehead.

Dean couldn't believe what was happening. Roy was dead, he'd killed him with his own gun, but here he was, looking down at Dean with loathing in his eyes.

He looked sideways and saw Sam bound to the opposite wall. He was awake now and looking at Dean. Brenna was cowering against the opposite wall, her hands covering her face.

"You win," Dean said, straining against the web holding him in place. "I'm here. Let Brenna go. This has nothing to do with her."

Roy laughed. "You come back around, start hanging out with my wife, and you think this has nothing to do with her? But then you thought I was out of the way, right? I got to say, you get a hell of a lot wrong, Dean, like that thing you threw me to. You thought it was here to feed."

Dean knew if she wasn't there to feed, there was only one more thing she could have been there for. "She was here to breed."

"Yeah. That thing was playing the mating game, and I guess I fit her profile. Me and all those other poor bastards. She bit us to turn us into what she was."

Dean watched Sam out of his peripheral vision, and he saw that he was moving. At first, he thought he was just struggling against his bindings, but then he saw the shard of glass on the floor. Dean knew he had to keep Roy from seeing what Sam was doing, so he fixed his eyes on him and listened as he continued his tale.

"By the time you pulled that trigger, I wasn't human. Not anymore. So bullets didn't hurt me much. Oh, and neither did fire. So after you left, well, we ran. Me — I hid for months, nearly starved. But you know what kept me going? Every night, I dreamed about ripping your throat out."

Dean licked his lips. "Where are they, Roy... the women?"

Roy smiled. "Scattered...In the wind. They're like me now. You killed one monster, you made so many more. Congratulations. The only question is, do I kill you... or turn you?"

Dean's mind was reeling. There were a dozen other Arachne in the country now, each looking for their own victims. It was a hell of a mess for them to clear up. And it was all his fault. He should have followed the hunt through. He hadn't even thought of what would come of the bodies after he left.

At that moment, Sam threw back his webbed coverings and launched himself at Roy. He caught him around the chest, but Roy was too strong. He threw Sam off and he fell onto the ground. Roy bent down and placed a hand at Sam's throat. Sam's legs scrabbled against the floor as he tried to get his feet under him to save him from suffocation.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed.

Roy threw held Sam against the wall, and Dean saw Sam's eyes starting to lose focus as the oxygen deprivation got to him.

"No! Roy, stop!" Brenna shouted.

Roy ignored her, and Sam's eyes started to slide closed. Brenna dropped to her knees beside Dean and hacked at the webs holding him in place. He threw back his restraints and picked up the machete from the floor where it had dropped. He pulled Roy's arm back, breaking his grip on Sam's neck, and Sam slid to the floor. Dean swung the machete through the air and into Roy's neck. His head flew through the air and landed on the floor with a meaty thud.

Brenna stared down at the remains of her husband and wept.

"Bobby, why did you bring the sword back?" Castiel asked curiously as they arrived in the yard of Bobby's house.

Bobby smiled. "What can I say? I'm a collector, and this is a fine piece of history. Besides, it's already killed two leviathans; it might be lucky.

Castiel nodded, inwardly marveling at the peculiarities of his friend. They strolled around the car towards the house. Castiel heard the rumble of a familiar engine and he smiled. "Dean and Sam are here."

Bobby nodded. "Let's see what trouble the boys have got into this time." They stopped and turned as the rumble of the Impala came closer.

Just then, a figure stepped around the corner of nearest stack of junkers. "Mr. Singer. Castiel. Apparently, you two are competent enough to warrant annihilating. I'd take it as a compliment."

Despite the fact he kept his human face, there was no question that it was a leviathan. He had that hungry look in his eyes.

Bobby raised the sword and waited for the leviathan to step a little closer. Moving so fast it didn't seem possible, the leviathan grabbed Bobby and threw him into the nearest stack of junkers. The sword fell to the floor with a clang. Castiel watched his friend fly through the air and saw the blood drip from Bobby's forehead. He reached for the sword, but the leviathan was faster.

He grabbed Castiel around the throat and lifted him in to the air. "I've never tasted angel meat before, but I'm really looking forward to it."

Castiel struggled against the hand holding him, but it was no good. The leviathan pulled back a fist and plunged it into Castiel's stomach.

Castiel's eyes darkened and his last disconnected thought was that this was how it felt to die: pain, darkness, and a sense of failure.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

Sam and Dean were thinking of nothing more than the beds that were waiting for them and maybe a beer before. They were tired, and Sam was still sore around the throat from his encounter with Roy. Their thoughts were of comfort and family not leviathans and fights. All that changed the second they turned the corner and saw Bobby flying through the air to collide with a stack of cars.

Dean slammed the brakes on and they both jumped out of the car, racing towards Castiel and the man that was gripping him around the throat.

"I've never tasted angel meat before, but I'm really looking forward to it," the man said. Then he did something unspeakable. He pulled back a fist and plunged it into Castiel's stomach.

They both cried out in unison as they ran forward. "No!"

The man dropped Castiel and he crumpled on the floor with a thud.

"Winchesters," the man said.

Sam didn't think, he just reacted. He picked up the sword from the floor and swung it through the air, chopping off the man's head. There was no sense of satisfaction as his head fell to the floor, just an overwhelming anger and sadness that blotted out all else.

"Lucifer!" Sam bellowed the name. He wasn't sure if he was calling for comfort or help or a miracle. All he knew was that he needed his angel there. He dropped to his knees beside Castiel and touched his cheek. It was cool to the touch and devoid of resistance.

Dean stood back, his hands covering his face as if he couldn't bear to see what had happened.

Bobby struggled forward on unsteady legs and dropped down opposite Sam; between them lay their fallen angel. But it wasn't their angel, not anymore. There was no grace in the body now. It was an empty vessel: the body of an ad salesman from Pontiac, Illinois.

Dean broke his silence with a muffled sob. "No, no, no, no, no." He moved forward and knelt at Castiel's head. "Cas, wake up!" he demanded.

Tears dripped down Sam's face onto Castiel's coat, leaving small droplets on the fabric. From the shoulders up, Castiel merely looked as if he was sleeping. It was below that the damage was obvious. Black goo soaked the fabric of the coat and oozed down to the ground.

There was a fluttering sound, and then a sharp indrawn breath. "What happened?"

No one was able to answer Lucifer; they were too consumed by their grief.

Lucifer knelt next to Sam and laid his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam turned and threw himself into his arms, tears streaming down his face. They had a second to embrace before Sam was shoved away. Lucifer got to his feet, towering in his anger, but Dean didn't care. All that matter was that his friend was dead and this was the one man that held even a sliver of hope for his resurrection.

He gripped Lucifer's shirt. "Fix him! Now!"

His words seemed to reach Sam and Bobby and they turned their eyes from the corpse between them and looked at Lucifer.

"Can you do it?" Sam asked hopefully.

Lucifer breathed out a heaving breath. "I don't know."

Dean shook his head jerkily. "Raphael said it. He thought you were the one that brought Castiel back last time. So do it! Fix him!"

"Please, Lucifer," Sam said, choking on his words, "please try."

Lucifer looked into his pained lover's eyes and nodded. "I will try. Step back."

Sam and Bobby scrambled to their feet and stepped back. Dean didn't seem able to obey, so Sam took his arm and tugged him back gently.

"Cover your eyes," Lucifer said, kneeling beside Castiel.

Though they all obeyed, they couldn't protect themselves from the piercing white light that spread around Castiel and Lucifer. There was an indescribable high-pitched noise, like light made voluble, and then a gasp.

Their eyes snapped open and they saw Castiel sitting up and drawing heaving breaths. Lucifer supported him with a hand at his back and he spoke softly in Enochian to Castiel. The only one among the three that understood it was Sam, and he knew that Lucifer was calming Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean asked doubtfully.

Castiel looked up at him and nodded. With Lucifer's help, he eased himself to his feet and wiped a hand down his blood-soaked front.

Sam choked a sob, and Lucifer stood and took his into his arms. They whispered to one another, each comforting the other.

"You okay, Cas?" Bobby asked tentatively.

Castiel nodded and stepped closer to his friend. "I am well." He raised a hand and gently swept it over the gash at Bobby's temple. The cut disappeared.

"What did you…? How did you…?" Bobby was rendered incomprehensible.

Castiel smiled. "I believe I have been brought back better than ever before."

He looked at Lucifer who nodded. "Welcome back, brother."

Dean had watched the interaction in silence, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just seen. It wasn't easy; his every instinct shouted that Castiel was dead. On leaden feet, he stepped forward and reached out a hand to touch Castiel's shoulder. Castiel smiled at him knowingly, and held out a hand to Dean. Dean wasn't satisfied with a handshake. He threw his arms around Castiel and gripped the back of his coat. Embarrassed, they broke apart and Dean gripped Castiel's collar. "Cas, man, don't ever do that again."

Castiel smiled. "I will do my best."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could do with a drink."

"I was wondering, Castiel, if you felt up to a trip home?" Lucifer said.

Castiel's eyes widened. "Heaven?"

Lucifer nodded. "Only if you feel ready."

Castiel nodded energetically. "I am ready."

Lucifer pressed a kiss to Sam's temple and then there was a rustling sound as Lucifer and Castiel disappeared.

They watched the place they had been for a moment, as if waiting for them to appear as fast as they had vanished, but no one came to join them.

Bobby retrieved his baseball cap from by the car where it had fallen and put it back on. "So, how's about a drink?"

Dean shook his head. "I'll be right back. I just need a minute."

Sam nodded his understanding. He knew that his brother needed solitude to come to terms with what had just happened. He wasn't one to vent his emotions in company.

They watched Dean disappear around a stack of junkers and then headed back into the house.

Bobby set a bottle of beer down on the table in front of Sam and then took a seat opposite.

"You okay?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "Not even remotely. That was something else, Bobby."

"It was Cas," Bobby said.

"Exactly. It was _Cas_. I knew the leviathans could kill angels, but I never imagined it would be Cas. He's the only one I didn't worry about. He's supposed to be forever, and we nearly lost him."

Bobby stared down at his beer. "It was a shock to all of us. Poor Cas. That's the second time he's been shot down only to be dragged back. It's got to be wearing on him." He gave Sam a covert look. "You can relate, I bet."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess."

Bobby gazed at him and Sam avoided his eye. He didn't want to talk about this. Unfortunately, Bobby either didn't sense that or he didn't care. "So, what is it like, being brought back?"

Sam sighed heavily. "It's different," he said evasively and when Bobby nodded, he went on. "When Jake killed me, back in Cold Oak, I don't know what happened to me after I died. I don't remember anything between seeing Dean running towards me and then waking up in the cabin. After I was shot…" He raised his head to look at Bobby in the eye. "It was harder. I remembered."

"And what do you remember?" Bobby leaned forward in his seat, his curiosity overpowering.

"Heaven."

Bobby blew out a breath between his teeth. He seemed to be struggling against something, as if he wanted to know more but was scared to ask.

Sam gritted his teeth and continued. "It was perfect. The most peaceful place I had ever known then. There was none of the pain or trouble or guilt that I was feeling alive."

Bobby looked sad. "And then you came back."

"Then I came back, and everything was painful and overwhelming again."

"Do you think it was the same for Cas?" Bobby asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Who knows where angels go when they die? I like to think they have their own heaven, somewhere they get to rest, but I don't know. I guess we could ask him."

"Do _you_ regret it?" Bobby asked quietly. "Coming back?"

Sam shook his head. "Never. I would never have known Lucifer's love if I hadn't come back. I would have left Dean feeling immeasurable guilt for what happened. It was the right thing for me to come back then."

"It was the right thing to come back _then_ ," Bobby said. "What about this time? Do you regret coming out of the cage?"

Sam grimaced. "No, I was thinking of Cold Oak. If I hadn't come back that time, if Dean hadn't made the deal, the world would have been better off."

"Maybe," Bobby said. "But it wouldn't have been a better place for the rest of us left behind."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The apocalypse was a good thing?"

"No," Bobby said and then sighed. "You made a lot of mistakes, but you did a lot of good, too. Sam, you tamed Lucifer. Hell, you saved the world. Besides, imagine what would have become of your brother if he hadn't made that deal." Sam opened his mouth to object, but Bobby spoke over him. "See what happened to him when you followed Lucifer into the cage. Imagine years of that. Think of the damage he could have done."

"It wasn't his fault," Sam said defensively. "I did that to him."

Bobby raised his hands. "I'm not blaming him. I'm not blaming either of you. You had to be with Lucifer, I understand that, and Dean had to go off on his own. If I blame anyone, it's me. I should have seen what you were going to do and I should have kept Dean here."

"If you'd know what I was going to do, would you have tried to stop me?"

Bobby considered for a moment and then shook his head. "No, but I would have made sure you went about it different. I'd have made sure you spoke to Dean first."

Guilt twisted Sam's stomach. If he'd spoken to Dean, made sure he was okay first, things might have turned out differently. Dean might not have gone on his two-year rampage.

Bobby took a swig of his beer and looked at Sam curiously. "What you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's my fault. Our last hunt was Rhode Island…"

Bobby set his beer down and watched Sam as he ran his finger through the condensation pooled on the tabletop. "Rhode Island. Dean told you?"

"No, Raphael did. When we were in that prison and Raphael was… hurting me, she told me all about Dean's time alone. She seemed to enjoy it."

Bobby cursed. "I bet she did. So, you know it all."

"I know more than I wanted to," Sam said. "This last hunt was an Arachne again. Dean made a mistake last time. The victims didn't die; they were changed. One of them came back after Dean and we had to take it out." He looked at a spot an inch above Bobby's head. "He had a wife."

Bobby's eyes widened, and Sam knew he understood. Dean had made a woman a widow.

"He thought he was doing the right thing," Sam said. "It was a mistake."

"No judgment here. I know he did."

Sam drained his beer and set it down. "It's my fault Bobby. That woman and her husband, it's all because of what I did."

"And the Arachne was innocent?"

Sam looked up and saw Bobby was smiling.

"The way I see it, you blame yourself, and Dean blames himself, and neither of you are seeing the truth. You did what you had to do, and Dean did what he had to do. Everything that happened after that was supposed to happen." He shrugged. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

Sam was about to argue against, but at that moment, the door swung open and Dean stepped inside. His eyes were red, confirming Sam's theory that he had wanted time alone to process what had happened, but he was composed.

"Awesome, beer!" Dean said, crossing the room and snagged three from the fridge. He handed one to Sam and Bobby each, and then sat down at the table. He looked from Sam to Bobby and asked, "What did I interrupt?"

Sam forced a smile. "Nothing important. Bobby was about to tell me about his last hunt."

"Yeah, I was." Bobby filled them in on the Portland hunt that started with a dead ballerina and ended with dead leviathans.

"So this Borax stuff," Sam said. "It hurts them?"

"Damn near burned the guy's face off," Bobby said. "I say we stock up."

Sam nodded but Dean was frowning. "So, leviathans, creatures that predate angels, can be hurt something that housewives clean their floor with? You know that makes no sense right?"

Bobby chuckled. "You make a good point, but the stuff works. I figure we should just be grateful and go shopping."

"I guess so," Dean said doubtfully.

"You said one was helping you," Sam said. "What's the deal there?"

"He wanted to eat his boss," Bobby said. "We put the nix on that and chopped off its head. Not before we interrogated it a little."

"Find out anything good?" Dean asked.

"You could say that," Bobby said. "Apparently, according to this guy George anyway, Dick's master plan is to cure cancer."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Dean asked.

"Don't know, but I guess we have to find out," Bobby said. "They can't be doing it out of the goodness of their heart."

Dean leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. "I wanted to kill them all before, but after what they did to Cas and this screwy news about curing cancer, I say we make killing Dick our top priority."

Sam and Bobby nodded their agreement, though neither of them had any idea of how to do it.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter Twenty**_

Chuck was simple man, he had a simple life, or at least he did until Sam and Dean Winchester came along.

At first it was great, he would have super-intense dreams and then he would write what he saw—an easy writer's gig. He made a bit of money, developed a fan base, published some books. Then one day a knock on the door came and two obviously dangerous men introduced themselves as Sam and Dean Winchester, the real world representations of his characters. He thought he was crazy, but it turned out the crazy was just beginning. An angel appeared and told him he was a Prophet of the Lord. All that sounded cool enough, he had a personal archangel to protect him and all, but that was then. This was now.

The first super-crazy thing to happen was Sam being taken by Lucifer. Chuck had been rousted from his comfortable home and dragged across the country to provide daily accounts of what was happening to Sam. He watched as Sam and Lucifer fell in love. He watched as Sam, trying to save Lucifer, died and was resurrected. He watched Sam and Lucifer's love blossom for a matter of weeks before they were torn apart. He watched as Sam threw himself into the pit to be with his lover forever. Then came the dreams of Dean. They were hard to watch, as Dean seemed hell-bent on destroying himself. He stopped writing, it was just too depressing, and he started drinking more than ever.

Then came another dream, and for the first time in many months he had hope. He saw Gabriel finding Dean and bringing him back to Bobby's. Chuck woke up that morning and started his day with coffee instead of whiskey. He started writing again.

He waited for the moment his path would cross with the brothers' again, and it happened after only a short wait. Sam and Dean were snatched by Raphael, the archangel that had once been Chuck's protector. Castiel had come for him again, and he was dragged back into the firing line of providing information. This time the person doing the demanding was Lucifer. That had been a mind-altering experience. Despite months of watching him interact with Sam and Dean, Sam especially—and weren't those some memories he would have liked to be able to forget—he was suddenly facing a very pissed off archangel.

It had all worked out. Sam and Dean were found, not entirely well but at least alive. Chuck had a stayed a couple of days, merely catching up with friends, as that was what they had become to him, and then Castiel had zapped him back home, safe and sound.

That was then. This is now.

Now he was being held hostage by his mailman with a gun at his head. It was quite a statement to say that this was the worst day in his life.

At first, he'd thought it was a twisted joke. Pat, his mailman for as long as he'd lived in Kripke's Hollow, was asking if he could come in and use the bathroom. An odd request, but not unimaginable. It wasn't until Chuck swung open the door and invited him inside that Pat had pulled a gun and knocked him back, so he landed heavily on his dilapidated couch.

At first, he thought Pat was possessed by a demon, which would at least have given him a chance of escape—he hadn't been watching Sam and Dean all these years without picking up few tips—but Pat had thrown back his head and exposed a row of teeth and a forked tongue that looked ready to take a chunk or two out of Chuck's ass. His old friend Pat was no more, and a leviathan called who-knew-what was parading around looking like him.

Chuck was really having a bad day.

'Pat' strode across the room and pulled back the drapes to check the street. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone. Whatever it was, Chuck didn't think it boded well for him. He eyed the phone on the counter. If he could just get a call out to Sam or Dean, they could help him.

"Your friends aren't coming to help," he said conversationally. "Edgar is paying them a visit right now, keeping them nice and distracted."

Chuck cursed the fact he'd stayed up all night writing. The Arachne hunt and its fallout had given him a couple of days' worth of material to catch up on. He had no idea what had happened to Sam and Dean or how this Edgar was going to distract them. What he did know was that his back-up was otherwise occupied, probably fighting for their lives, again.

Chuck licked his dry lips. He needed a drink, a _real_ drink. If ever there was a time for whiskey, it was when you were being held hostage by a gun-toting leviathan. The whiskey was on the table. He could just reach out and take it… and maybe lose an arm.

He shook his head. It wasn't worth the risk.

The leviathan tugged back the drapes and sighed with what Chuck suspected was relief. "Finally."

Chuck held back a groan. Being held hostage was bad enough, but he had a feeling what was coming was worse.

He strode across the room and grabbed the front of Chuck's bathrobe. "You're coming with me."

It was not a question, it was a statement, and Chuck had no way of refuting it. He was royally screwed.

There was a knock at the door and 'Pat' swung it open. A man dressed in a smart black suit was waiting on the threshold. "Mr. Roman says he is ready."

The leviathan slung an arm over Chuck's shoulders and led him out of the door. Chuck saw his neighbor climbing into his car as they stepped outside, and though part of him wanted to cry out for help, he knew it would only lead to another's death. He bit his lip and allowed himself to be led to a smart, black sedan. He was unceremoniously shoved into the back seat, and 'Pat' climbed in beside him. The man that had knocked on the door got in behind the wheel and started the engine.

'Pat' held out a small bottle of juice. "Drink this."

"I'm really not thirsty," Chuck said.

The man driving twisted in his seat. "Are we going to have a problem?" He smiled widely, exposing a row of perfect white teeth that Chuck knew could elongate and turn razor sharp at any moment.

He shook his head and took the juice. It was bitter on his tongue and gritty, and Chuck guessed there were some crushed pills inside. He drained the bottle and his captors looked pleased. The last thing Chuck was thinking of was sleep when he was in such imminent danger, but whatever they had given him was powerful, and within minutes he felt his eyes slip closed.

Chuck's eyes opened to half-mast as he was manhandled out of the car and into the bright, hot daylight. He didn't know how long he had slept, but judging by the scorching sun overhead he'd crossed a few state lines and missed a lot of hours.

He was bundled through a slate grey, metal door and into a cool corridor. His feet stumbled as he was hurried along it and through another door. He found himself in a large room with a polished mahogany table surrounded by chairs. He was unceremoniously pushed into one of the chairs and then his captors left him with a muttered, "Don't go anywhere."

Like he had a choice.

On the table in front of him there was a bottle of water and a glass. He thought it could be a trap, the water could be spiked again, but his desiccated mouth made the decision for him. He picked up the water and drained it straight from the bottle. The door opened again, and he dribbled some of the water down his chin as he jumped with shock. Dick Roman was standing opposite him.

"Mr. Shurley." Dick's smile was impossibly wide. "Good to meet you at last. I'm a huge fan of your work." Dick placed a briefcase on the table and pulled out a seat beside Chuck. Sinking down on to it he steepled his hands together. "How are you?"

Chuck merely stared at him, mouth agape.

"I can see you're still recovering from your journey," Dick said. "That's okay. I apologize for the sedative, but I thought it was the most effective way of… easing your passage, shall we say? You had quite the journey to get here, and I thought the less you remembered of it the better."

"Where am I?" Chuck asked.

Dick smiled. "You are in the fine state of Arizona. This here is a place called Fort Huachuca. It was one of your country's military bases until Richard Roman Enterprises made it an offer it couldn't refuse. This is going to be the base of our homeland security operations. Just because we're going to turn your race into cows for the slaughter, it doesn't mean we need to get sloppy about security."

Chuck gaped at him. Dick was hiding nothing, telling him everything, which meant Chuck wasn't getting out of here alive. He was terrified. How did Sam and Dean stand it, constantly running into trouble, risking their lives on a daily basis? All Chuck knew was that they were better men than him, as he was facing death and his mind was working a mile a minute on a plan to get him out of here.

"There's no need to be scared," Dick said, interpreting the look of sheer terror on Chuck's face. "We're not going to hurt you. In fact, I think you will find us very accommodating."

"Why am I here?" Chuck asked, his voice quavering with fear.

"Because we have a problem we think you can help us with." Dick unsnapped the lock on his briefcase and pulled out something wrapped in a tanned cloth. He set it down on the table reverently and unfolded the cloth, revealing what looked like a slab of rock. "This is for you."

Chuck eyed the slab of rock dubiously. "Um… thanks?"

Dick smiled even wider. "I don't think you understand, Chuck. Can I call you Chuck?"

Chuck nodded mutely. As long as he was alive he wasn't going to complain about what he was called.

"That's great. I think a more familiar relationship will benefit us both. You are a key player in what's happening at the moment."

Chuck didn't like the sound of that. He didn't want to be a key anything. He had enough to be going on with being a prophet.

As if he was reading Chuck's mind—and maybe he was, Chuck didn't know—Dick went on. "You are a Prophet. The only Prophet in existence that we know of. You are in a position to be uniquely helpful to me and my people." He patted the slab of rock. "This is the Word of God."

Chuck eyed the rock with reverence. His outlook on life had been changed since he had found out about angels and prophets. He had been an agnostic before, but now that had all changed overnight. Now, he was looking at a physical representation of the divine, and he was in awe.

Dick nodded his approval. "I see you understand the gravity of the moment. This is one of an unknown number of tablets left by our creator. This one in particular deals with leviathans. I need to know what it says. You, Chuck, are the only person in existence that can read it."

With shaking hands Chuck reached across the desk and pulled the slab of rock over to him. The strange carved sigils danced in front of his eyes. It was like trying to read without his glasses. He blinked and focused and the words came began to make sense. He scanned down the tablet and his heart seemed to fail as he understood what he held in his hands. He _had_ to get out of here. Sam and Dean needed to know what this said. To do that he had to buy himself some time.

"Reading anything interesting?" Dick asked in a mild tone that didn't cancel the obvious excitement in his eyes.

Chuck sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "It's difficult to make out. Like reading in code I barely understand."

Dick looked disappointed. "That's a shame but not a disaster. We have time."

Chuck chewed his lip. "I need a pen and paper, and I could really do with a drink."

Dick clapped his hands together. "Of course, anything you need. We have equipped the base with anything you might like, including a case of that rotgut whiskey you seem to enjoy.

Chuck looked at him blankly. He didn't understand how Dick knew enough about him to know his favorite drink. How long had they been watching him?

"I'm sure your friends have filled you in on the story of how we came to be freed from Purgatory. We inhabited your former protector, Raphael, and while we were camped out in the archangel, we were able to read his thoughts. We know everything about you, Chuck."

Chuck swallowed thickly. That didn't sound good.

Dick stood and clapped him on the shoulder. "I have things to do and places to be. I will leave you to work in peace. One of my associates will bring you what you need."

He swept from the room, leaving Chuck alone for the moment. He turned his attention to the tablet and read as fast as he was able. As soon as he was sure he had the pertinent words memorized, he raised his eyes heavenward and spoke.

"Ummm… Castiel, it's Chuck. Dick Roman has taken me. I am in a military base, Fort Huachuca, Arizona. Please help."


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter Twenty-One**_

Sam was lying across Lucifer's naked chest. His head bobbed as Lucifer breathed. He was caught in the place between waking and sleeping. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, but he didn't want to waste time with Lucifer to sleep. Lucifer traced his fingers across Sam's back, lulling him into sleep.

"You think Cas is okay?" Sam asked drowsily. It wasn't the first time he had asked. The image of Castiel's body lying on the ground kept creeping into his mind, unsettling him.

Lucifer drew a deep breath. "He's fine, Sam. I believe what happened was harder on you, Dean and Bobby than it was on Castiel himself. Angels are different to humans. We live with the constant touch of the divine on us, and we do not fear death as we know we will be rewarded."

Sam shifted so he was sitting, looking at Lucifer. "Me and Bobby were talking about that. Is there a heaven for angels?"

Lucifer raised a hand and traced Sam's cheek. "I do not know. There is no one in a position to tell us other than God himself and, as you know, he is absent at the moment. I do not believe he would have created a heaven for humans and not one for angels though, no matter how much he favors you."

Sam smiled and leaned into Lucifer's touch. "I hope so."

Lucifer raised himself onto his elbows and Sam leaned down to kiss him. They lost themselves in each other, in the moment. Sam would have been content to stay like that for the rest of the night, but suddenly, Lucifer's lips stopped moving against him and he stiffened. Sam was confused for a moment, and then he heard a throat being cleared. He looked up and his mouth dropped open.

"Cas!" He grabbed at a sheet and dragged it up cover himself. "What are you doing here?"

"Chuck is in trouble," Castiel said, staring fixedly at a point above Sam's head. "You are needed."

Sam struggled to his feet and dragged on the pair of jeans that had been abandoned on the floor. He reached for a t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He shoved his feet into a pair of boots and looked at Lucifer. "We have to go."

Lucifer nodded and a split-second later they were standing in Bobby's study.

Dean was pacing the room, running a hand through his hair. "What took you so long?" he asked testily.

Sam didn't bother to answer. It had been less than a minute since Castiel arrived in their motel room, but he understood Dean's anxiety. Their friend was in trouble.

He looked to Castiel. "What's happened to him?"

Castiel started to answer, but Dean cut him off. "Dick freaking Roman has him."

Sam's eyes widened. This was so much worse than he had imagined. "Where?"

"At a former military compound in Arizona," Castiel said. "It is warded against angels."

Sam cursed under his breath. Dean locked eyes with him and they both nodded. If angels couldn't go in to get Chuck, they would have to.

"No!" Lucifer said angrily. "You are not going in there alone. I can't let you."

Sam raised an eyebrow. Lucifer had never refused him anything before, and he had never claimed to 'let' Sam do anything.

"Sam, please," he implored. "Don't do this."

"I have no choice," Sam said simply. "He's my friend."

Lucifer waved a hand through the air and books flew from the shelves onto the floor. Bobby looked like he wanted to protest but Lucifer's scowl silenced him.

"We're wasting time," Dean said angrily. "Sam, are you coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer tugged Sam around and cupped his cheeks in his hands. "Don't do this, Sam. You heard Castiel; the place is warded against angels. I cannot protect you there."

Sam shook his head sadly. "I have to."

Lucifer sighed and released Sam. Sam felt the loss deeply, and he felt guilty. He didn't want to hurt Lucifer, and he understood his fear, but he had to do this.

"Cas, can you at least drop us off?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. "I can take you there. I just cannot enter the compound."

"Wait!" Lucifer shouted. "If you are insistent on doing this, you will need help. Castiel, please rouse your garrison."

Castiel disappeared with a faint rustling sound.

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked.

"You need someone to pose a distraction. There is no knowing how many Leviathans there will be guarding Chuck."

"But Leviathans can kill angels," Sam said.

"And they can kill you too!" Lucifer said bitterly. "But you don't seem to care about that."

Sam sighed and tugged on Lucifer's arm, pulling him closer. He knew Lucifer's anger wasn't really directed at him, it was a reaction to the situation, but it didn't make it easier to bear. He leaned into Lucifer and pressed his cheek against him. "I will be fine. And if I'm not, you'll fix me."

Lucifer sighed and held Sam to him. "You cannot go through life putting yourself at risk, just because I can heal you."

"And I can't go through life refusing to help my friends because I might get hurt."

"You are infuriating!" Lucifer said.

Sam looked sad. "I'm sorry. But it's what I have to do."

Lucifer closed his eyes and seemed to summon patience. "Okay. If you insist on doing this, you will do it my way. We will not leave until Castiel has the garrison in place. You remember the angel banishing sigils?"

Sam nodded. He had learned them in one of his many lessons with Lucifer in the cage. He took a pencil and paper from the desk and drew one to show Dean. "They look like this. We need to cancel them out. Bobby, do you have some cans of spray paint?"

Bobby nodded. "Plenty in the panic room. I'll get them."

"Your first job is to cancel the sigils," Lucifer said.

"What about Chuck?" Dean asked.

"We will find him, but first the sigils. Without us, you will be walking targets to the Leviathans. The more sigils there are, the worse we will be weakened. Find all that you can and destroy them."

He pulled Sam against him and whispered words of love in enochian in his ear. Sam smiled and relaxed for a moment, just taking comfort in his angel's presence.

There was a fluttering sound, and they pulled apart to see Castiel standing at the door. "The garrison is in place. Are we ready?"

Bobby came back into the room and held out cans of paint to Sam and Dean.

Sam nodded. "We're ready.

Sam stood and stared around him in awe. They were standing outside a slate grey building with a heavy metal door. The air was warm against his face, despite the lateness of the hour, and cicadas sung. None of that was what Sam found awesome though. It was the sheer number of angels materializing in the air that took his breath. There were so many of them. More shocking than the number of them was the way they watched Lucifer. Sam had thought after everything Lucifer had done as the Devil there would be some residual bad feeling, but they looked at him with reverence. Sam was oblivious to the fact that it was the changes he had wrought in Lucifer that they were responding to.

Dean seemed oblivious to the angels; he was staring at the door that they had to get through. "We're not going to be able to pick the lock on this one."

Lucifer sighed and looked at Sam. "You know what you have to do?"

Sam nodded. "Get rid of the sigils."

Lucifer kissed him gently and Dean averted his eyes. Sam felt Lucifer smile against him and guessed Lucifer was amused by Dean's reaction.

"If you two aren't too busy, we've got a friend in there that needs our help," Dean said.

Lucifer deepened the kiss. Sam wasn't sure if Lucifer was doing it to annoy Dean or because the reality of what Sam was about to do was settling over him. He pulled away reluctantly and brushed a hand over Lucifer's cheek. "I'll be right back."

"You better be."

Sam shouldered his duffel and turned his attention to the door. Dean was right, there was no way they would be able to pick the lock.

Lucifer seemed to come to the same conclusion. He walked to the door and tested the handle. The lock didn't budge, but Lucifer had another idea. He wrenched the handle down and yanked. The door swung open with a creaking sound.

Sam gave Lucifer a look of longing and then he and Dean crept through the door. There was the sound of pounding footsteps, and they ducked into a recess in the wall as countless Leviathans pounded down the corridor and out into the sunlight. They heard Lucifer's shout of rage and gasps of many people as they caught sight of the horde of angels waiting for them. Sam thought of Lucifer and what he was facing, and he felt a pang that they weren't facing it together, then he turned his attention to the mission at hand.

Dean peered around the wall. "I think we're good."

They both drew their guns and made slow progress down the hall. Sam expected to be met with a Leviathan at any moment, but there were none. It seemed they had all been drawn outside.

Sam looked up and down the hall and he saw the first sigil at the door. He tapped Dean's shoulder and pointed to it. Dean nodded and they crept back along the hall to the door. They could hear shrieks and shouts from outside, and Sam tried to ignore the fact Lucifer could be one of the people making those noises.

"Focus!" Dean hissed.

"Sorry." Sam raised his paint can and sprayed a cross over the sigil, cancelling it out. The hiss of the can seemed exceptionally loud, and Sam thought someone else had to hear it.

They turned and continued down the hall. When they came to a heavy wooden door, they paused and Dean pressed a finger to his lips. He pointed at Sam's gun and whispered, "Cover me."

Sam shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to let Dean be the first into that room. There could be Leviathans waiting inside, and he couldn't bear the idea of Dean getting hurt.

Dean's brow creased with confusion.

"We go in together or not at all," Sam hissed.

Dean looked like he wanted to argue, but he satisfied himself with a scowl and muttered, "Stubborn ass."

Sam reached for the door handle and he turned it slowly. The door creaked as it opened and they both held their breath.

The room was empty. It looked like some kind of storage space. Scrawled on three of the walls was angel banishing sigils.

"They sure covered their bases," Dean said quietly.

Sam nodded and moved across the room to cancel out the sigils. When they were done, they went back into the hall. Sam looked at the row of doors lining the walls, and he knew what they had to do.

"We're going to have to split up. There are too many places to cover and we're short on time. Who knows what they are doing to Chuck."

Dean nodded reluctantly. "You take the left side."

Sam made his way along the hall, opening doors carefully. At every turn he expected to see a Leviathan waiting for him, but the rooms stayed clear. Strangely, the lack of obstacles made Sam more nervous. It was as if the Leviathans knew they were there and were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Once he had cleared five rooms of the sigils, he came back into the hall and waited for Dean to come out. There was one more room on this hall to be dealt with, and that was the one Sam was sure would be heavy with Leviathans.

Dean stepped out into the hall and nodded at the door. "Last one's the charm, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Or the trap."

"It's no good standing here like dicks. We've got to go in."

Sam knew he was right, but he was nervous. They had seen no sign of Chuck so far, and he couldn't help but worry it was because he was already dead. He hated to think it, Chuck was his friend, but he couldn't keep the thoughts away.

He gripped the handle and turned it slowly. The door swung open and they were met with a sight that stopped them dead in their tracks.

Sam had been right. The Leviathans knew they were there, and they had laid their trap. Chuck was held in the corner of the room, with a Leviathan's arm wrapped around his throat.

He smiled wryly as he caught sight of them. "Hey, guys."

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Hey, Chuck."

In the centre of the room was a polished, wooden table, and set on it was a hunk of rock, papers scrawled with writing and—Sam had to admire Chuck's balls—a glass of whiskey. On the walls there were two sigils.

Dean stepped closer to Sam so their shoulders were touching. In unison, they raised their guns and pointed them at the Leviathan holding Chuck. They knew they couldn't take the shot, as Chuck was poised to be used as a human shield, but Sam felt better having some kind of weapon ready.

The Leviathan laughed. "Bullets can't kill me!"

"No, but I bet they hurt," Dean said, clicking back the safety.

Chuck looked terrified, and Sam tried to reassure him with his own calmness. His eyes tracked the two sigils on the walls. If they were lucky, and he had no reason to believe he would be, they were the last two holding Lucifer and the other angels out of the building.

"One each?" he said to Dean.

Dean nodded. "Good odds."

Chuck looked terrified, misunderstanding their conversation. He closed his eyes and screwed his face up as if he didn't want to see the bullet that would kill him.

Sam grinned at the Leviathan and then twisted so his gun was aimed at one of the sigils on the wall. He pulled the trigger and the bullet impaled itself in the wall, directly in the middle of the painted sigil. He heard Dean's bullet hit the opposite wall, and he prayed that it had hit its mark.

"Lucifer!" he bellowed.

Chuck's eyes opened again, just in time to see Lucifer appear beside him. Lucifer broke the Leviathan's grip on Chuck and he shoved him at Sam. Sam caught him and pushed him behind him, out of harm's way. Lucifer raised his angel blade and swept it through the air. The Leviathan's head dropped to the floor and its body followed.

Lucifer disregarded the body on the floor and stepped up to Sam. He cupped his face in his hands and asked, "Are you okay?"

Sam nodded. "I'm fine. Are you?"

"I am completely unharmed. We all are. None of our number was lost."

Sam sighed his relief and leaned into Lucifer's touch.

Behind them, Chuck cleared his throat nervously, and Sam turned to face him. "Are you okay, Chuck? Did they hurt you?"

He shook his head. "No. For monsters, they were surprisingly nice, even if they were terrifying."

"What did they want from you?" Dean asked.

Chuck smiled enigmatically, as if he was hiding a delicious secret. "They needed me to translate this." He picked up the slab of rock from the table.

Lucifer sucked in a breath between his teeth. "But that's…"

"The word of God," Chuck said with satisfaction.

"And what does God have to say?" Dean asked.

Chuck's smile grew wider and he clutched the rock to his chest. "It tells us how to kill Leviathans."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter Twenty-Two**_

Dean looked around the room at their ragtag group and felt a sense of satisfaction. Bobby was sitting opposite Chuck at the kitchen table and Castiel was standing behind him. Spread out over the table were the notes Chuck had made from the Leviathan tablet. They didn't look much, but they were the people that were going to ice Dick Roman, saving the world again.

"Read it again, Chuck," Bobby said.

"Cut off the head, and the body will flounder. Waste not thy time nor your breath upon the Leviathan herd. Point thy blade at the heart of their master, for from him springs all their messages."

"That's simple enough to understand," Dean said. "We take out Dick Roman and the rest of the Leviathans will be neutered. How about the rest?"

Chuck cleared his throat. "Leviathan cannot be slain but by a bone of a righteous mortal, as light and good as the Leviathan are hungry and dark, washed in the three bloods of the fallen: a fallen angel, the ruler of fallen humanity, and the father of fallen beasts."

Bobby scrubbed a hand over his face. "And that's where I get a little lost. Where are we supposed to get the bone of a righteous mortal and the blood of the father of fallen beasts?"

"I believe it is referring to an alpha," Castiel said. "But how we will find one, I do not know."

Dean crossed the room and poured himself a mug of coffee. "Maybe Sammy will have some idea when he gets here. He's got the whole angel mind power-up going on. Any idea when he'll be here, Chuck?"

Chuck looked uncomfortable. "He and Lucifer are otherwise occupied at the moment."

Dean grimaced. He might be on board with the whole Sam-Lucifer thing now, like he had a choice, but he didn't want to think about them bumping uglys.

Deciding Sam and Lucifer had more pressing concerns than their sex life, he raised his eyes heavenward and spoke. "Hey. Lucifer, if you're not too busy molesting my brother, we have the not small task of killing Dick Roman going on. You think you can zip it up and come by Bobby's?" He waited, but there was no sound of rustling wings.

"You know, Lucifer's not going to like that," Bobby said conversationally.

Dean shrugged. "What's he going to do, smite me? Sam's got him as tame as a kitten these days."

"Really, Dean, a kitten?" a smooth voice said behind him.

Dean spun on his heel and came face to face with Lucifer. Sam was standing beside him, and he looked thoroughly amused.

"Oh, hey," Dean said with an unabashed grin.

Lucifer looked pissed, but before he could start with Dean, Sam drew his attention. "What's all this?" He was looking at the notes on the Leviathan tablet.

"That's all Chuck's deciphered for us," Bobby said.

"Awesome," Sam said. "So, what's the deal?"

"We have to find the father of fallen beasts, a fallen angel and the father of fallen humanity," Bobby said. "We figure Lucifer and Crowley will do for angels and humanity and an alpha for the beasts, but we don't know where to find one."

"All the alphas were destroyed with Crowley's operations," Castiel said helpfully, and then in response to Sam's blank look, he went on. "When Bobby and I were attempting to stop Raphael and Crowley from breaking into Purgatory, we tracked down their base to the abandoned prison that Raphael took you to. He was holding all manner of creatures there, including the alphas." He looked apologetic. "I destroyed them all."

Dean cursed. "All of them?"

Bobby shrugged. "All that were there. I don't know if there are more out there somewhere."

"And if there are more, which I believe is unlikely, we won't know where they could be. There is a whole globe to search," Castiel said.

Sam gnawed on his bottom lip, deep in thought. "But there were definitely alphas there when you took out the prison?"

Castiel nodded. "The alpha vampire for certain. I believe the alpha shapeshifter was there also."

Lucifer moved to Sam's side and touched his chin gently, releasing his abused lip. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"We need to go somewhere we know there's an alpha," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "But we don't know where they are, Sam. That's sorta the point."

"But we know _when_ they are," Sam said enigmatically.

Lucifer nodded. "I can take you there."

"Mind slowing this down for those of us that didn't spend two centuries in Lucifer's school of hunting?" Dean said testily.

"I believe that the plan is for someone to go back to the time Bobby and I encountered the alpha vampire," Castiel said.

"Time travel," Lucifer confirmed.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Bobby asked, scrubbing a hand through his beard.

"Because it's a little out there," Dean said. "Still, I'm not complaining. Beam me back, Scotty." He didn't particularly want to go bouncing around in time again, but it was their best shot at getting an alpha.

"I'm afraid you cannot go, Dean," Lucifer said. "None of you can."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, irritated. "Why not?"

"Because you were already there."

"What? No, I wasn't. I've only been to that prison once, and it sure as hell wasn't stuffed with monsters then. It just had your psychotic Mister Sister there."

Sam shook his head. "What he means is that you were a part of the world on that day. You were out there somewhere, and you can't cross your own timeline."

"So, who's going?" Dean asked, though he thought he knew the answer already.

"I am," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "No, you're not. Didn't you hear Bobby? The place was stuffed with monsters. With your luck, you'd end up coming back with a set of fangs. That's if you come back at all. You could get stuck there." It was more than that. If Dean couldn't go too, he couldn't protect Sam, and his luck lately was really in the toilet. He'd almost died at the hands of Raphael, he _had_ died back in Detroit, and he'd almost been a snack for the Jersey Devil. There was no way Sam was going in there unprotected.

Lucifer looked deep in thought and Dean guessed his thoughts were travelling the same path as his own. Lucifer would never allow Sam to put himself in danger like this.

Sam stepped up beside his angel and took his hand. "I can do this."

Lucifer nodded, and Dean's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious! You're going to let him do this?"

Lucifer frowned. "If you can provide us with an alternative, I am all ears."

Sam looked satisfied, but Dean's scowl deepened. Lucifer was just playing to Sam's ego. He wasn't taking the danger into account. He thought Lucifer was better than that.

"We will leave presently," Lucifer said. "We will need to arm ourselves."

"Can we raid the trunk?" Sam asked Dean.

The word 'we' connected with Dean and his fears abated somewhat—Lucifer would go with Sam at least—but they didn't disappear. Something else had occurred to him. "How come I can't go back to the past when Zachariah zapped me to the future without any worries?"

Lucifer smiled. "Zachariah didn't zap you to the future. He created a reality for you in hopes that it would scare you into saying yes." He looked at Dean fondly. "Really, Dean, do you believe Castiel would become a stoner if he was humanized?"

Dean felt a little stupid as he looked across the room at Castiel. He was standing in his customary trench coat, looking slightly bewildered. He was no doubt trying to imagine himself as a stoner. That world had felt so real though. "Just as a point of interest," he said. "Is Zachariah still bobbing about up in Heaven?"

Castiel smiled. "He had been sent to our… I suppose you would call it human resources department… for analysis and retraining. I have never been there, but I am told it's an unpleasant experience."

Dean nodded his satisfaction. "Works for me."

"So, can we raid the trunk?" Sam asked impatiently, apparently eager to risk his neck again.

Dean sighed. "I guess you better. Can't have you popping back in time without anything to defend yourself."

Sam grinned and bounded out the door and over to the Impala. Dean watched through the window as Sam rifled through the contents of the trunk.

He felt someone step up beside him and he knew who it would be even before they spoke. "I will take care of him, Dean. Don't worry."

Dean nodded. He knew Lucifer would rather die that allow Sam to be hurt, but that didn't dispel the feeling that something was going to go wrong, and Sam was going to be stuck there without Dean to take care of him.

Sam picked up the clip of silver bullets and snapped it into his gun. He had silver for skinwalkers and werewolves, a machete for vampires, a homemade flamethrower for wendigos and rugarus and Lucifer was currently getting the lamb's blood from Bobby's fridge for djinns. They were as prepared as they could be, and now all that there was to do was go.

He went back into the house and stuffed his gear into a duffel. Dean watched with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep scowl on his brow. Sam knew he was pissed that he wasn't coming with them, and he understood Dean's feelings, but he was going with Lucifer; he couldn't be better protected.

He exchanged a glance with Lucifer and they nodded in unison. It was time.

"The alpha vampire was being kept in the bowels of the prison," Castiel said. "The shapeshifter was in the room in the prison Sam was taken to. Crowley was in the process of torturing it when we arrived, and he fled."

Lucifer nodded and took Sam's hand. "We will find them." He turned to Dean. "We will be back as soon as we can."

Dean nodded and spoke. Sam was expecting a threat for him to keep himself safe, but instead he said, "Bend your knees."

Lucifer squeezed his hand and they were gone. It was a dizzying sensation, being shifted through time, similar to how it had felt to throw himself into the vortex that led to the cage. He felt Lucifer's hand in his, and he gripped it back tightly.

They arrived with a resounding thump that jarred Sam's legs—he had forgotten to bend his knees. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked solicitously.

Sam nodded. "Just give me a minute."

Lucifer rubbed a hand on his back, and it was that touch that enabled Sam to calm himself. He looked around and saw they were in a dingy cell that was all too familiar. It was almost exactly the same as the cell Raphael had kept him in. Shaking his head to dispel the memories of what had happened when he'd got out of the cell, Sam tested the door. It was locked. Lucifer would have been able to break it open, but the noise might have brought Crowley or his henchmen to them.

They stepped out into the hall and looked around. They were in a long corridor with cells lining the walls. From some of them came the sounds of scrabbling and whimpering, and Sam guessed they were the sounds of Crowley's captives.

"We have to make it to the basement," Lucifer said softly. "And we cannot let ourselves be seen by Crowley or his henchmen."

"What about the other monsters?"

Lucifer shook his head. "They are unimportant. Castiel will be here presently to take care of them. They cannot share their story with anyone."

"Okay." Sam was a little disappointed. He didn't want to have to face the monsters being held there, knowing that their time was limited. Soon Castiel would be there to kill them all.

Lucifer took his hand and led him towards the door at the end of the hall. They passed empty cells at first and then they came to the occupied ones. The first creature they saw was a shapeshifter; at the edge of the cell was the glutinous pile of skin and hair that had been its last form. As they passed, the shapeshifter looked up at them curiously. It didn't speak, but Sam felt its accusation in its silence.

The next cell was occupied with a female djinn with tattoos covering her skin. She scuttled back on the cot as they passed. Sam felt a pang of guilt. He had come here armed to kill if necessary, but now he saw them and how pathetic they were, he wanted to help them. These feelings were all because of Lucifer. He had taught Sam that just because someone is thought of as evil it didn't mean they are beyond redemption.

Lucifer seemed to sense his disquiet, as he squeezed Sam's hand and whispered to him. "They are not long for this world anyway, Sam. Castiel will put an end to their suffering."

They came to the door at the end of the hall and Lucifer eased it open. It led out onto another corridor with a sign marked as _Basement Access_. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. They were almost there. They opened the door and made their way down the stairs, alert for any sign of someone coming the other way. There was nothing until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Then voices came to them and Sam's heart contracted painfully in his chest. He knew those voices.

Lucifer clapped a hand over Sam's mouth to stop him calling out the greeting that was on the tip of his tongue.

"We cannot go to them," he whispered into Sam's ear. "Understand?"

Sam nodded. He had completely lost his head at the sound of Bobby and Castiel's voices. He had forgotten that they had to remain hidden. He could only imagine the chaos that would ensue if Bobby and Castiel saw them.

Lucifer led him around to a recess in the wall, and they pressed themselves up against the concrete, out of sight.

"I know all about you, Bobby Singer," a deep, honeyed voice said, "and I know why you are here."

"And you're still so calm?" Bobby said. "Knowing what we are going to do to you?"

"Whatever you and your pet angel are about to do is no worse than what The King of Hell is doing. Now, enough about me. Let's talk about you."

"What about me?" Bobby asked.

"How are you coping, Bobby? I hear your two favorite humans have up and left you. The stories of Dean Winchester have been bandied around amongst our community."

"What do you know about that?"

"I am an alpha, Bobby. I follow the tales of all hunters that pose a threat to my children. I hear Sam threw himself into Hell and his brother has lost his reason."

"Sam did what he had to do," Bobby said steadfastly. "And Dean will be back soon enough. He just needs time."

Sam felt a surge of affection for Bobby. He and Dean had abandoned him but here he was, defending them.

"Are you sure?" the deep voice asked. "From what I hear Dean is too far gone to return, and Sam will never come back."

"Sam did what he had to do," Bobby said again, and Sam heard the hitch in his voice. He felt guilty. He had been so consumed with making amends to Dean that he'd forgotten that he wasn't the only one he had left behind when he went after Lucifer.

"We are wasting time. We have seen all that we need to see," Castiel said, speaking up for the first time. "I will take you to safety and then I will return to deal with the prisoners."

Sam heard a huff that he took as Bobby's acceptance and then there was the rustling sound of an angel in flight.

He waited, unsure whether or not they'd really left.

"They're gone," the deep voice said. "You can come out of your little hidey hole now."

Lucifer and Sam stepped around the wall and saw the most shocking sight of the day. The alpha, his pointed teeth descended, was strapped to a chair with leather restraints. Around his neck was a thick metal collar. He didn't seem perturbed by his situation. On the contrary, he smiled as he saw them.

"Sam Winchester, and Lucifer, I believe."

"How do you know who I am?" Sam asked.

"I have been watching you through the eyes of my children for a long time, Sam. Now," he considered them carefully, "what are you doing here when my latest news was that you were both trapped in Hell?"

"We got out," Lucifer said simply.

"That is part of the tale, but not all," the vampire said. "You are out of your time, are you not?"

Lucifer nodded. "We are. We come from two years into the future."

The vampire smiled his satisfaction. "I thought so. What calamity can have happened that made you travel so far to see me? I assume that is why you are here, skulking in the shadows and avoiding your friends."

"We are in need of help," Lucifer said.

The vampire laughed softly. "As you can see, I am not in a position to help anyone at the moment, least of all myself. What assistance do you need?"

Lucifer stepped closer to the vampire. "We need your blood."

"And what use can you possibly have for my blood?"

"There is a new monster in the world in our time," Sam said. "And it's hurting people."

The vampire shook his head. "I think you are confused, young one. I do not help humans. They are food, nothing more."

"They are hurting your children too," Lucifer lied.

The vampire's eyes widened, and Sam knew they had his full attention now.

"How?"

"They are eating you," Sam said. "That's what they do, eat humans and vampires and other monsters."

The vampire tapped his long nails on the arm of the chair he was strapped to. "And my children are dying?"

Sam nodded soberly. "Vampires, humans, they're all dying."

"What use is my blood?"

"It's part of a spell to banish them," Lucifer said.

Sam held his breath as he waited for the vampire to answer. The truth was that they had no idea if vampires were being killed by the Leviathans, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

"I will aid you," the vampire said.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

Lucifer stepped forward, clutching a glass vial. "Thank you." With his angel blade, he sliced a deep cut across the vampire's forearm and positioned the vial to collect the blood. When it was full, he ran a hand over the cut, sealing the wound.

Sam eyed the vial reverently. It had been much easier than he anticipated. They now had the first part of the items needed to banish Dick Roman.

"I have helped you," the vampire said, "now it is your turn to help me. That angel will be back soon to destroy me. I want you to free me."

Lucifer nodded. "Of course."

Sam gaped at him. They couldn't release the vampire. There were rules to travelling in time and limitations. The alpha vampire was dead in their time. Castiel had killed him. You couldn't change the future.

"You will help me?" the vampire asked.

Lucifer nodded and took Sam's hand. "I will do what needs to be done. You have my word."

Sam was about to vocalize a protest, but Lucifer was one-step ahead of him. He squeezed Sam's hand and then Sam felt the dizzying sensation of being shifted through time. He closed his eyes against the swirling lights surrounding him, and when he opened them, he was standing in Bobby's study.

"You're okay!" Dean said, his voice heavy with relief.

For once, Sam wasn't concerned with reassuring his brother. He saw Bobby standing in the kitchen and he crossed the room with long strides and then threw his arms around his friend.

"What's that for?" Bobby asked.

In response, Sam held him a little tighter. He wanted to say so much, that he was sorry for leaving Bobby to fight alone, that he was grateful for Bobby's defense of him after what he'd done, but to say that would have been to embarrass them both, so he merely hugged him.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Chapter Twenty-Three**_

"Thought I'd find you two out here."

At the sound of Bobby's voice, Sam and Dean turned from their perch on the hood of the Impala where they had been there an hour, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth.

"Want a drink?" Dean asked, holding out the bottle.

"No, thanks."

Sam raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Bobby to refuse a drink.

"I figure one of us should be sober if we're going after the boss of the fugliest thing I've ever seen," he said.

Sam shrugged. "Why do you think we're drinking? It might be our last chance."

"That's all the more reason to stay sober. Stack the odds in our favor."

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bobby, we've been here before. Every time we go after something big like this, something big goes wrong. We're just enjoying our lives while we can."

It was true, Dean thought. They'd gone after yellow-eyes and they were too late; the devil's gate had been opened. They'd tried to save him from the pit, and Sam had to watch his brother get dragged to Hell by the hounds. Sam had gone after Lilith, and he'd started the damn apocalypse. Dean had gone after Lucifer, and Sam had died. There was no guarantee that going after Dick Roman was going to end up with them all safe and well. Especially since their only weapon was the shinbone of a long-dead nun and a funky mix of blood.

"And getting soused at noon is enjoying life?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Bobby frowned. "Where's Lucifer."

"Out getting Crowley's blood," Sam said, snagging the bottle of whiskey from Dean and taking a swig. "It's the last ingredient."

The last ingredient of a spell that was written millennia ago. There was no knowing if it would work. Dean wasn't even sure he wanted it to work. He wanted Dick Roman dead, no question, but what would happen when he was gone? He hadn't asked Sam, he'd been scared of the answer, but what if Sam and Lucifer decided to go back to the cage after it was taken care of?

What was Dean supposed to do if his brother left him again? He couldn't stay a hunter, the life had worn him down, but he couldn't live a normal life either. There was no way he could live in a world ignoring the signs of the supernatural, knowing he was supposed to help. What he really wanted, though he'd not say it aloud, was to go out on this hunt, go down in a blaze of glory. Then Sam would be free to go back to his personal heaven with the man he loved without guilt. And, if Lucifer kept his promise, Dean would be able to go to Heaven. He would get to rest for a while.

"Okay," Bobby said sternly. "I know that look. I'm cutting you off."

Sam clutched the bottle to his chest. "What look?"

"Not you," Bobby said. "Dean. He's got that 'thinking of doing something stupid' look, and I'm just about done pulling you two back from the cliff."

Sam turned bleary eyes on Dean. "What are you thinking of doing?"

"Nothing," Dean lied. "Bobby's just getting a little paranoid in his old age. It's to be expected."

Bobby wrestled the bottle from Sam and held it behind his back. "I'm not paranoid. I know you, dammit, and I know whatever you're thinking isn't good."

Dean held his hands up in front of him. "I'm not thinking anything."

Bobby sighed and scrubbed a hand through his beard. "Fine, don't talk to me. I'll be inside if either of you want to drag yourself out of your alcohol-sodden pity party to work on a plan."

"We'll be right there, Bobby," Sam said, waving an airy hand.

Bobby stomped back into the house and Sam pushed himself to his feet. Dean thought he was going to go inside too, but he paced back and forth in front of the car and then turned on Dean.

"What are you thinking?"

Dean tried for an innocent expression. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam rubbed his forehead. "Please don't lie to me, Dean. Bobby's right. You have that look, and I want to know what's going on."

Dean remained stubbornly silent.

"Fine," Sam threw his arms up, "don't talk. I'll go after Dick Roman alone and you can sit in the panic room till it's over."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "And how are you going to work that?"

"Lucifer."

Dean scowled. Sam wasn't making an idle threat. He really would leave Dean in the panic room to stew while he went after Dick. He weighed his options; he could lie, tell him he was scared of what they were doing, but he didn't like to lie to Sam. He could tell the truth, but Sam would definitely lock him in the panic room if he thought he was going into this hoping to die.

"Dammit, Dean, tell me!"

"What are you going to do when this is over?" Dean asked.

Sam frowned at the change of subject. "When we've iced Dick?"

Dean nodded.

Sam pushed his hair back from his face and perched on the hood of the car again. "I don't know. Probably deal with whatever new fugly comes along. Something always does. Why?"

"You're not going back to the cage then?" Despite Dean's best efforts, the question didn't sound as carefree as he had intended to make it. His desperation was all to evident to his ears.

Sam gave him a sympathetic look that Dean would rather have chewed thumbtacks than see. "I'm not leaving again, Dean."

Dean felt the first fluttering of hope coming to him. "What are you going to do then?"

"I figure me and Lucifer will get a place of our own close by. Lucifer doesn't think money will be a problem; Crowley has plenty, and he's basically Lucifer's bitch." Sam grinned. "We've talked about it. Besides, we can't go back to the cage while Heaven is still in such a mess. Gabriel needs Lucifer to help him."

It sounded to Dean like Sam was only staying as long as Heaven needed Lucifer. How was he supposed to tell Sam he needed him too? He couldn't say it; Sam would think he was joking having spent a lifetime avoiding that kind of conversation.

Sam stretched his arms out in front of him. "I like the idea of Lucifer and me having our own place. We can still hunt. We'll just have a real home instead of endless motel rooms." He turned to Dean and smiled. "It'll be good to have a home again."

Dean saw the excitement in his brother's eyes that his imagined future brought him, and he couldn't bring himself to spoil it. From what he'd heard, he'd have his brother around for the foreseeable future, and that would just have to be enough.

"You think we can get that bottle back off Bobby?" he asked.

Sam laughed. "Sure, I'll tackle him and you wrestle the bottle from him."

"I was being serious."

"So was I. He'll never see it coming."

Dean began to laugh too. It had been too long, he thought, since they'd had time together like this, just being brothers. There was always something getting in the way. As if his thought had summoned him, there was a fluttering sound, and Dean knew their time was over.

"Lucifer." There was obvious pleasure in Sam's voice at Lucifer's return.

He looked up and saw Lucifer's beaming smile. "Sam."

"That's my cue to leave."

"What? No, you don't have to go," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "Get while the getting's good, Sammy, remember? I'll see you two later."

He plodded back into the house, thinking maybe he could help Bobby and Castiel plan out their storming of Dick Roman's base.

Dean watched as Bobby held the last vial of blood over the bowl and poured it down over the bones. It oozed thickly, dripping down over the remains of one Sister Mary Constant, their chosen righteous mortal.

"Okay, that's me done," Bobby said, stepping back. "We've got the blood and the bone…"

"I guess it's time to see if these things work," Sam finished for him.

They had sawn the bone in half and Sam and Dean were each taking a piece; whoever got the opening would take the shot. Lucifer had argued, saying he and Castiel were angels and therefore they should take the risk, but Sam had pointed out they were just as fallible as him and Dean against a leviathan. Besides, this was why Dean had come back from his solitary hunts and Sam back from the cage: for the leviathans. It felt right that they were the ones to finish this once and for all.

Dean watched as Sam examined the bone and a sick sinking sensation settled in his gut. He and Sam had discussed the fact they likely wouldn't come out of this unharmed, but that had just been supposition. Now it settled over him that something was going to go horribly wrong. He didn't know where this certainty had come from, and he didn't like it. He thought he should say something to the others, warn them, but he didn't know what to say that they weren't already aware of.

There was a fluttering sound, and Castiel appeared. "You were right, Bobby," he said. "Dick Roman is in the head office of Sucrocorp."

They all took a collective deep breath at the news. They had their weapon and location. All there was to do now was strike.

"I guess we better get going then," Bobby said, tugging off his cap and running a hand through his hair.

Lucifer moved to Sam's side and entwined their fingers. Sam leaned against him, pressing their shoulders together. Dean knew they were both nervous and this was their way of taking comfort. Part of him wished he had someone he could take comfort from on as the nerves were building in him. Sam caught his eye and smiled grimly, and Dean knew he was just as worried as him.

Dean crossed the room and picked his half of the bone from the bowl. He tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat. "Let's get moving then."

Sam squeezed Lucifer's hand and then released him. He pulled on a jacket and stowed his half of the bone in a pocket, too.

"You know what to do?" Bobby asked them both.

Sam nodded. "Go for the killing shot."

"There's going to be a lot of Leviathan's to get past," Bobby said. "Leave them to the rest of us. You boys just aim for Dick."

"Ready?" Lucifer asked.

There were murmurs of agreement and then they were gone. Papers drifted in the breeze of their departure and then the silence was cut by a ringing phone.

"A supply closet, Lucifer, really?" Dean said.

"I'm sorry. Would you rather we appeared right in the midst of a dozen hungry Leviathans?"

"No, but I'd rather I wasn't pinned to a filing cabinet by Cas."

Sam snorted, and Bobby shushed them.

Dean was pressed closer to cabinet for a moment and then his lungs expanded gratefully as someone got the door open and they began to file into the hall. Bobby leveled his machete over his shoulder and Lucifer and Castiel snapped their wrists, so their blades slid into their hands.

There were no leviathans in sight, but Dean knew they were close. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. His every muscle was tense, but his heart was steady. This was where he was at his best, facing down the enemy. He looked askance at Sam and saw he was smiling slightly. It was good to know that, among all the changes in Sam, this hadn't changed. He was a hunter as much as ever.

"We come here just to stand around?" Bobby asked gruffly. "Or are we hunting?"

"Hunting," Sam said, stepping away from Lucifer's side and looking around.

They were in a hall of heavy-looking wooden doors with small glass panels. Sam moved towards one on silent feet and peered inside.

"Big mouths?" Dean asked in a hushed voice.

Sam shrugged. "Two, maybe. They look like they're— Crap!"

Sam sprung back, and the door flew open. Two men ran out into the hall, then paused as they took in the sight of the blades.

"Hunters!" one bellowed, and then its head transformed to reveal the sharp teeth and forked tongue. It looked ready to take a bite out of any of them, but Bobby acted fast. He swung his machete through the air and the head fell to the floor with a thud.

"Hunting, remember?" he said.

The second leviathan took one look at its decapitated buddy and made to run, but Lucifer caught the back of its pristine suit and dragged it back.

"Castiel, if you would," he said politely.

Perhaps he was thinking of the leviathan that had killed him, or perhaps he was just eager to get started, whichever it was, Castiel smiled as he swung his blade.

There was the sound of pounding footsteps and around the corner came more leviathans, heads thrown back and teeth on show.

"Go, Sam!" Lucifer shouted. "Find Roman."

Sam seemed to teeter on indecision for a moment, before acting. He grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him along the hall. Dean got with the program quick, and soon they were sprinting together. Dean was aware that Bobby, Castiel and Lucifer were facing high odds against them, and they were all — possibly — at risk from the leviathans, and while he wanted to turn around and help them, he didn't. They'd all been given their tasks, and this was his; he had to go with Sam and take out Dick before he made his escape.

They stopped at every door and checked inside for a sign of Dick, but there was nothing until they reached the next floor. This seemed to be the show part of the building, where clients were brought to be impressed. The doors were glass, and they led into individual offices and conference rooms. The largest of the rooms, with glass doors naming it as the _Bellevue Suite_ , was the one they wanted. As Dean peered inside, he saw Dick Roman sat at the head of a long table with a smile on his smarmy face.

He gestured them inside and Dean and Sam exchanged a look before entering. It wasn't a look of discomfort or doubt, it was a reassurance. They were together. They were armed. They were going to do this.

Dick stood to greet them, his smile widening. "Winchesters," he said with genial pleasure, "I was hoping you'd come."

"We figured we owed you a visit," Dean said cheerfully.

Dick sauntered towards them, not seeming to be in a hurry. "You did. You stole my prophet, after all."

Dean stepped to the left, shielding Sam slightly with his body. With a soft huff, Sam stepped around him so he was in front of Dean.

"Our prophet. Our friend," he said.

Dick's smile grew as he came to a stop a few feet from them. "I thought you might say that."

He moved so fast Dean didn't even have a chance of reacting. He shoved Dean away, into the wall. Dean's head collided hard with the wall, and for a moment he saw stars. He blinked to clear his vision and looked up. His heart, so calm until then, began to pound. Dick was on the other side of the long room and he was holding Sam around the chest with one arm, the other was wrapped around his neck. It was tight, too tight, Dean could see that Sam's breathing was compromised as his face was red. Despite that, he looked completely calm, as if he knew it was okay because Dean would get him. Dean would, that was his job, but he needed a little help.

"Lucifer!" he shouted. "Castiel!"

There was the familiar fluttering sound and then they were there, Bobby, Cas and Lucifer, standing beside Dean.

"Lucifer," Dick said with surprise. "I didn't know you were here. I would have rolled out the red carpet if I'd known."

"Release him," Lucifer said coldly.

Dick looked amused. "I don't believe I will. You see, Satan—may I call you Satan?—I am not afraid of you. You may be an archangel, but I am a leviathan. Angels don't scare us. I will squash you like a bug and then I will feast on the flesh of that poor man you are possessing."

Dean knew Lucifer must be scared, Dick had Sam by the throat and from the way his face was reddening the grip was still too tight, but he betrayed no fear as he raised his blade.

"I will end you and your foul race."

"You cannot kill me with that little pig-sticker," Dick said.

"True," Lucifer said in a musing tone. "I cannot _kill_ you with it, but we have something that can. Dean."

It was a request and command, and Dean obeyed. He pulled the bone from his jacket and gripped it tight in his fist.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "A bloody bone? You think _that_ will kill me?"

"I think we're about to find out," Dean said, taking a step forward.

"I don't think so," Dick said, shaking Sam slightly. "Sam's not doing so good right now. Imagine how much worse it will be for him after I break his back. No. Here's what's going to happen. You are going to slide that bloody bone across the table to me and I will give you back your brother."

"Don't," Sam said in a strangled voice.

"Quiet," Dick snapped. "Come on, Dean. Hand it over."

Dean hesitated for a moment, and then he noticed Sam's eyes. They were blinking slowly, lethargically, as the oxygen deprivation got to him. He was going to lose consciousness soon, and how much longer would it be then till death? Lucifer would bring him back, but not before he had to experience the horror of dying again. He had to do it. He stepped forward and laid the bone on the polished tabletop.

"Slide it over," Dick said softly.

Dean shoved it and it slid across the table toward Dick.

"Thank you," Dick said.

"Now, let Sam go," Lucifer said with ill-repressed tension in his voice.

Dean looked at Sam and saw his eyes were half-closed. He was slipping. Dean felt like he couldn't breathe, too. If Dick held him much longer, they would lose him.

Dick surveyed them for a moment and then he nodded. Slowly, so slowly it was painful to watch, he unwound his arms from Sam. Sam stumbled forward, gasping and rubbing his throat. And then he wasn't. Then he was reaching into his jacket and pulling out the bone. All signs of struggle and pain vanishing—and Dean realized he'd been faking, and he was going to kick Sam's ass for that later—Sam shoved the bone up and into Dick's neck, spearing him on it.

Sam stumbled back a step as Dick's face changed into the horrifying real face of a leviathan for a moment and then he was Dick again, and black blood was seeping from his nose. There was a pounding sound, like a heartbeat, and waves of energy seemed to pulse through the room.

"Sam!" Dean heard Lucifer's shout as though from the end of a long tunnel, and his eyes found Sam's back. Sam who seemed not to be even breathing now, even though he stood on his own two feet steadily. Then the heartbeat sound increased, and Dean was pushed back by an invisible force and his arm came up to cover his face.

He knew a moment of disorientation before he lowered his arm and saw the room was spattered in black blood. Lucifer was running forward and shouting Sam's name, and Dean thought this had to be it, Sam was dead, but when he reached the end of the room he saw there was no body on the floor, no sign that Sam had ever been there in fact. There was nothing.

Sam was gone.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Chapter Twenty-Four**_

"Sam! Sammy!" The words were ripped from Dean's throat in a hoarse shout.

"Quiet," Lucifer hissed without looking at Dean. He was leaned over the table, his hands gripping the wood so tight his knuckles were white. His eyes were wide and staring but he didn't seem to be taking in anything around him.

"Sam!"

"Quiet!" It was not a hiss now, it was a bellow, and it was accompanied by a high-pitched whining sound that Dean knew was Lucifer's true voice bleeding through. For the first time in a long time it was brought home to Dean that this wasn't just Sam's boyfriend. He wasn't family; he was Lucifer, the archangel, and he was horrifying in his rage. Dean looked away.

Castiel bent and examined the largest pool of black blood on the floor. "There is no blood."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bobby said incredulously. "There's nothing _but_ blood."

Castiel didn't look at him as he answered; he fixed his eyes on Dean. "There is no human blood."

As the meaning of those words sank in, Dean swallowed convulsively. There was no human blood meant there was none of Sam's blood. He wasn't there, pooled on the floor among that disgusting black Leviathan crap. Sam wasn't there, dead.

"Okay," Bobby said, sounding as relieved as Dean felt. "That's not Sam, so where the hell is he?"

"Lucifer?" Castiel asked in a gentle voice.

"I don't know," Lucifer briskly.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean asked. "You're Lucifer! A damn archangel! How is there anything you don't know?"

"I don't know!" Lucifer shouted. "He never told me! He created those monsters and locked them away and we knew nothing else. He didn't tell us!"

Dean understood he wasn't talking about Sam now, he was referring to God, which in itself was mind-bending.

Lucifer seemed to crackle with energy. Dean had never seen him like this before, not even when Raphael had snatched them. Sam had been seriously hurt then and Lucifer had been furious, but he had also been controlled. There was no control here now. He was enraged and he wasn't keeping a handle on it for their—Sam's—benefit.

"What do we do?" Dean asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a long moment and then breathed out in a sigh. "Castiel, go to Heaven. Tell Gabriel what has happened. Have the garrisons briefed. I want Heaven searched. I want the gates guarded. If Sam arrives, I want to know immediately. If he is already there… keep him safe."

Castiel nodded curtly and disappeared.

"Heaven," Dean said in a heavy voice. "You think he's dead?"

Lucifer shook his head. "I don't think so. I think that is too much to hope for."

"Let me get this straight," Bobby said harshly, "we're hoping he _is_ dead?"

"Yes. If Sam is dead, I will at least know where he is. I will be able to find him. That is all I can hope for, to be able to find him."

"You can't just, I don't know, _feel_ him?" Bobby asked. "You wiped the boys' rib-etchings away."

"He's not there anymore," Lucifer said through gritted teeth. "I cannot sense him. There is a vacuum where he was before."

Dean exhaled in a gust. Sam was more than just gone; he was off angel-radar gone.

"Okay" Bobby said, sounding much calmer. "So, we've gotta find him. He's not on your wavelength anymore, so we go to the other man in the know." Seeing Dean's blank expression and Lucifer's complete disinterest, he went on. "Chuck."

Lucifer looked up at Bobby and Dean saw there was a kindling of hope where there had been only desperation before.

"The prophet," he breathed. "Of course."

Dean felt the dizzying sensation of being moved and then he was blinking in a familiar room. Chuck hadn't invested any of the years between visits on improving his home. It was still dim, dirty and littered with liquor bottles. The computer monitor was on, but they didn't seem to have interrupted him writing. He was laid out on the couch with a pillow over his face, snoring loudly. Dean had to marvel at him for a moment. He had to have seen that Sam had been taken, and therefore would know Lucifer and Dean were on their way, but he managed to fit a nap in.

"Chuck!" Dean snapped, just as Lucifer shouted, "Prophet!"

Chuck jerked as if electrocuted and snatched the pillow away. He paled visibly as he saw them both towering over him and Bobby standing behind them with his arms crossed over his chest. He licked his dry lips and swallowed audibly. "Lucifer… Dean…"

"Where is he?" Lucifer asked without preamble.

Chuck got shakily to his feet and held his hands up in front of him. "Please don't smite me. I tried to warn you."

"Tell me where he is!" Lucifer shouted.

Chuck flinched. "I don't know." His voice was breathless and shocky. Lucifer was intimidating Dean, though he knew Lucifer would never harm him, so he could relate to the fear. He had no such guarantees for Chuck, and he was impressed Chuck was still managing to stand in the face of Lucifer's wrath.

"I've been looking, I swear. I took a bunch of Vicodin to knock me out, but I can't see anything but Dean. It's like when Sam went to the cage. There is just nothing there for me to see. Sam's… gone."

As Lucifer's hands fisted, the liquor bottles on the table began to vibrate with soft tinkling sounds. Then he closed his eyes and seemed to swallow down his rage. Dean was glad of it. He didn't know what would happen if he really let loose, but he remembered Castiel smashing all the glass in a hotel room and fill-up joint, and that was just when he was trying to talk. Lucifer's rage and frustration had to be apocalyptic.

With a soft fluttering sound, Castiel appeared. Dean turned to him, a hopeful question on his lips—and wasn't it just twisted that he was hoping for a dead brother—that died immediately with Castiel's slight shake of the head. "There is no sign of him. Gabriel has questioned the Gate guards and the garrisons are aware, but Sam isn't there."

Lucifer bowed his head. "He's gone."

"No," Dean said forcefully. "He's just missing."

"He's not on Earth. He's not in Heaven. He _is_ gone." Lucifer raked a hand over his face. "This is my punishment for loving him."

"God would not punish you like that," Castiel said.

Lucifer huffed a laugh. "You have forgotten your history, Castiel. I was banished merely for refusing to bow. What do you think He would do for a crime such as loving what I deplored?"

"I do not believe it," Castiel said.

Lucifer looked at him with pity. "I do. I loved the purest soul, and because of that he is gone. There is no more fitting punishment for me."

"Fine," Dean snapped. "It's your fault. So what are you going to do about it?"

Lucifer looked at him with pity. "Lament my mistake."

"Lament your—" Dean started, but Lucifer was already gone. With a rushing sound, like furious wings beating, he had left them.

They were alone.

Sam's eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath of cold air. He was looking up into a canopy of trees. There was no moon or stars that he could see through the sparse gaps, but there was some light, just enough for him to see by. He sprung to his feet and looked around the, squinting into the darkness at the end of his line of sight, searching for a sign of his lover and family. There didn't seem to be anyone there but him.

He reached into the back of his pants and found, much to his relief, that his gun was still there. He pulled it out, checked the clip and slid it back into place. He felt better armed, more prepared to deal with whatever was awaiting him in this place.

"Lucifer? Dean?" he called softly, desperate for an answer but almost afraid of being heard. There was an air of indefinable menace about the forest that made him feel that the less attention he drew to himself the better. There was no answering voice, and he risked speaking a little louder, calling to his angel in prayer as well as words, "Lucifer, I'm… I don't know actually, but it's a forest of some sort. I could do with a pick-up." He waited, listening hard for the sound of Lucifer's arrival, but nothing happened. There was no sound but the crunch of leaves under his feet as he turned in a circle. He cursed loudly, forgetting himself. It was a mistake. He heard pounding footsteps against the ground and then something bowled into him from the side, knocking the air out of his lungs.

With a grunt of pain, Sam shoved at the thing on top of him. Teeth snapped close to his face and a snarl ripped up the throat of his attacker. One hand came up to the throat of the thing on him and held back the face. With the other, he searched the ground of the gun he'd dropped when he'd fallen. The fates were on his side as his fingers curled around the cool metal of the barrel. He flipped it in his hand and lifted it, pressing the muzzle against the attacker's side. He pulled the trigger. The air was pushed out of his lungs again as the form above him became a dead weight. He shoved it off and scrambled to his feet. The body was face down, and Sam turned it with a foot.

He knew his mistake before the eyes opened again. The skin was wormy and parted lips revealed rotten teeth. Rugaru. Only killable with fire. He turned, planning to run and knowing it would do no good—fast as he was, a rugaru was faster—then he saw the weapon on the floor. The rugaru must have dropped it when it attacked. He picked it up and hefted it into the air, whipping it to the side just in time to slam it into the rugaru's neck as it came to attack again. It wasn't as easy as taking out a vampire, there was more resistance, but with brute force Sam got it through the neck and the rugaru's head dropped to the floor, followed by its body.

"Well," Sam said with a sigh, "that worked."

He examined the weapon. Its blade looked to be made of stone and the handle was bone and wood. It was wickedly sharp and heavy, but something about it felt right in Sam's hand in the way that Ruby's knife and the colt had once upon a time. He felt its ability to injure and protect in its perfectly balanced weight. He picked up his gun again and tucked it back into his pants, knowing that it would not be used again in this place, and he knew where he was now.

There was no moon or stars but there was some light. There was at least one monster, and he thought he could sense more in the darkness, watching him. He had woken up here immediately after he'd killed Dick Roman. He was almost embarrassed that he hadn't worked it out sooner. Lucifer had told him about this place. He was in Purgatory and he was pretty sure he was staying. Lucifer had never said anything about people getting out. It seemed unlikely that God's toilet had an escape hatch.

Thought was interrupted by a crack of a twig and harsh breath behind him. He spun on his heel and raised the blade again. Running forward, he dropped and kicked the legs out from under the creature. It fell back with a growl and Sam jumped onto its chest, pinning it down with his knees on its shoulders. It was female, face coated with grime and hair matted. Lips curved back over fanged teeth and yellow eyes almost burned with fury—werewolf. Sam positioned the blade over its throat and prepared to force it down when the yellow disappeared, and brown replaced it. A voice, hoarse with lack of use and yet so familiar, said, "Sam?"

Sam hesitated, trying to look past the teeth and dirt to the woman beneath. He sucked in a sharp breath and leaned back automatically.

"Madison?"


	25. Chapter 25

_**Chapter Twenty-Five**_

As the days stretched into weeks without Sam, Dean's desperation grew, as did his determination. When Bobby seemed to flag and become doubtful they'd ever get him back, Dean's certainty grew. Somewhere out there was the answer to their problem. They just had to find it. His determination was taking its toll on him though. He was burning through days and nights without proper sleep. More than once Castiel had knocked him out with his mojo to force Dean to stop and rest.

It had apparently happened again, as he found himself waking on Bobby's uncomfortable couch with a stiff neck. He knew he should be angry that Castiel had overpowered his will, but he couldn't help but be grateful to his friend for helping. The problem was that when Dean lay down to rest, he couldn't switch off his thoughts. Worry for Sam and questions of where he was and what was happening to him filled his mind. When Castiel knocked him out, he was sent into dreamless sleep.

"Morning," he mumbled, easing himself round to sit on the edge of the couch.

Bobby was in the kitchen, the clink of mugs telling Dean he was seeing to the coffee, and Castiel was standing with him. Chuck, who had set up camp at Bobby's the day after Sam disappeared, was nowhere in sight.

"Morning." Bobby came into the library with two mugs of coffee in his hands. He passed one to Dean and leaned against the edge of his desk.

"Anything?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Nothing," Bobby said.

Dean sighed. He hadn't truly expected Bobby to have come up with a solution in the night, but the acknowledgement that it was another day with no new hope for Sam's return made Dean want to groan. It had been fifteen days since they had gone to Sucrocorp, fifteen days without Sam. It was a long time when you didn't know what was happening to the person you cared about more than anyone or anything. If only they knew _where_ he had gone. Then they would have a place to start. He wasn't dead. Dean knew that in his heart. He would feel it if Sam was truly gone.

He got to his feet and sipped at his coffee as he looked over the books on offer. There didn't seem to be a single one he hadn't looked at already, despite the wealth of Bobby's collection. Thinking he would start with the Eve Manuscript again, he plucked it from the desk and went back to the couch. That was when the thunder of footsteps reached him and Chuck burst into the room. His eyes were alight with some excitement that looked one step from madness.

The book and coffee forgotten, Dean lurched to his feet. "What?" he asked eagerly. "What did you see?"

"Crowley," Chuck said. "He's coming. He said he can help."

"Help how?" Bobby asked, an intense look in his eyes.

"I don't know," Chuck admitted. "That was when I woke up. He came to speak to Dean, though, and he looked… smug."

"Like he knows something we don't," Dean said. He was annoyed with himself that he hadn't thought of the demon himself. He was the definition of shady. If anyone knew secrets of Dick Roman, it would be him.

Chuck nodded energetically. "I think this is it, guys."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Bobby cautioned.

"No," Dean said. "Chuck's right. This is it. It has to be." Because there was no other avenue left they hadn't explored.

"When's he coming?" Dean asked.

"Today is all I know," Chuck said.

Dean couldn't wait. The possibility of news was like fire in his veins. He needed relief now. "We've got that demon summoning spell, right?" he asked Bobby.

Still looking cautious, Bobby nodded. "Yeah. All the fixings are in the cupboard."

Dean hurried into the hall where Bobby stored most of his hunting paraphernalia. His heart was racing, and his hands shook as he retrieved the candle and herbs they would need, This was it, he knew it; this was how they were going to get Sam back.

Sam's mind was reeling. Madison. There. He lurched up, releasing her. She stood and stared at him, looking as shocked as he felt.

"What…? How…?" he gasped.

"Monster dies, it goes to monster heaven. Also known as Purgatory. I died a monster, Sam."

Sam felt a wave of sickening guilt among his shock. He had done this. He had put her here when he pulled that trigger. He'd never even imagined her as a monster though. When his mind had drifted to Madison, as it had sometimes over the years, he had imagined her in Heaven, at peace. Even when Lucifer had taught him about Purgatory and the souls of creatures he had hunted, he'd not connected that Madison counted as one. He'd only ever remembered her as the woman he had loved so intensely for such a short time.

"Maddie, I am so sorry," he whispered. "I had no idea."

She smiled sadly. "Not your fault, Sam. You only did what I begged you to do."

"But…"

She stiffened. "Hold that thought."

Sam heard it, too. Someone or something was coming. There was the sound of panting breaths and feet pounding against the dirt ground. His fingers curled around the handle of his weapon and he braced himself.

A figure wielding a blade a lot like Sam's burst into their clearing and rushed at him. Before he could even lift his weapon, Madison sprang into action. Faster that he could have imagined, she had kicked the creature in the chest, knocking it back, and snatched its weapon from its hand. She swung it through the air, slicing off the monster's head in one fell swoop. Sam watched, awed, as she kicked the head away and then examined her new blade. "Nice," she said. "Lost my own to a vampire a few nights ago."

"Maddie," Sam breathed, "that was…"

She smiled grimly. "Not the soap opera watching secretary you remember, huh?"

Sam shook his head sadly.

"Don't look at me like that," she said angrily. "I did what I had to do to survive, Sam. You don't know what it's like here. I was set upon in my first hour. Lucky I run faster than a shapeshifter or I would have been killed then. The next time I was attacked, I fought back. I haven't stopped fighting since. I would have died if I hadn't changed."

"I know," Sam said, raising his hands defensively. He hated that this had happened to her though. She had been so sweet, so gentle when she was human, and now she was a killing machine.

"We should move," she said. "We're targets here. There's a place."

Having no choice but to trust, Sam followed her into the trees, alert for any sign of attackers.

"You know," Crowley said conversationally. "I was coming anyway."

"Thought we'd speed things along a little," Dean said.

His eyes scanned the room. "So… the big boss not here?"

"Lucifer?" Dean said, unable to keep the bite of resentment out of his voice. "He's on a beer run."

The truth was that he was almost as angry with Lucifer as he was with himself. His guilt stemmed from the fact he had been the reason Sam was taken. He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't been the one to take the shot. He had dragged Sam back from the Cage because he needed him more than he needed Sam to be happy with his angel. But Lucifer… he'd given up on Sam. Wherever he was, he wasn't fighting to get him back the way the rest of them were. He had failed the person he said he loved.

"And you know I really doubt it," Crowley said. "Seems to me that he'd be around if he knew I was popping in."

"Lucifer isn't important," Bobby said gruffly. "You are. You said you were coming here anyway, so what do you want?"

"Story is, Winchester-Jumbo Size has vanished and you're all out of clues to find him."

Dean nodded stiffly. There was no point denying it to cover their failure. "Yes. He took out Dick Roman and disappeared."

"And you've no idea where he is?" Crowley asked.

"No."

Crowley smiled smugly for a moment and then quickly covered it and became serious. "Here's the part where I'd usually enjoy taunting the crap out of you for being dumbasses, but what can I say, your brother-in-law is Satan and he scares me. So, tell me exactly what happened with Roman."

"You know about the spell we took your blood for?" Bobby asked.

"The bare facts, yes. Lucifer pretty much told me to bleed or die. I took the easy road and proffered up some of the red stuff."

"Well, with your blood and some other ingredients we made a weapon for Dick," Bobby said. "Sam took the shot and succeeded. Roman disappeared in a helluva blood spatter, taking Sam with him."

"I hate to be the one to say it, but did you consider the possibility that _Sam_ might have been a part of that bloodstain?" Crowley asked.

"He wasn't," Castiel said. "I would have known. There was no human blood there."

Crowley nodded thoughtfully. "So, he's not dead. I'm assuming you angels have scanned for him."

"He is nowhere on earth or heaven," Castiel said.

"And he's not in the pit," Crowley said. "I guess there's only one possibility left."

"What?" Dean asked, his breath held in his chest.

Crowley merely looked at him, seeming to want him to make the connection himself. The realization brought the answer to his lips almost immediately, and he couldn't believe he had been so slow as to not realize sooner. "Purgatory."

Bobby sucked in a quick breath. "Damn."

Dean crowded into Crowley's space and grabbed the lapels of his coat. "How did you get in?" he growled. "You and Raphael bust that place open. How did you do it?"

"Easy on the coat," Crowley said, pulling Dean's hands away and stepping back. "First of all, you don't need to go punching a wall through the way we did. There's another way in. All you need to do is find yourself a rogue Reaper."

"Wait one damn minute," Bobby said. "None of us are dying here."

Dean didn't speak. He would die if that was what it took to get Sam back. It wouldn't be permanent; they had two archangels on side. Even if it was, Sam was worth the sacrifice.

His thoughts must have shown on his face because Bobby's eyes fell on him and he growled, "Dean…"

Dean help up a hand. "Not now, Bobby." Looking back to Crowley he asked, "How can a Reaper help us?"

"There's what you might call a back door into Hell. As you can imagine, it's not often used, but it's there. It just so happens that the way to that door is through Purgatory. You find yourself a Reaper, you find your way in."

Dean's heart seemed to have doubled its pace. He was thrumming with excitement. This was it, their way to get Sam back. He locked gaze with Bobby who seemed to be feeling the same surge of combined excitement and relief.

"Right…" Crowley said expansively, "I think that's us done. Best of luck and all that. If you'd mention to Lucifer how helpful I was, that'd be great."

"We'll be sure to do that," Bobby said. "And if you're screwing with us, we'll be sure to mention that, too."

Crowley raised his hands. "No screwing happening. I swear on all that's unholy, this is the real deal."

Dean nodded solemnly. "You better hope so, Crowley. If you are lying, Lucifer will be the least of your troubles. I'll be the one you'll be running from."

"Got it," Crowley said, a slight smile hovering at the edges of his mouth. He glanced around the room from face to face, and then disappeared.

Bobby laughed breathily. "Damn…"

"We're getting him back," Dean said, his voice exultant.

Castiel nodded, looking satisfied.

"Okay," Bobby said, businesslike again. "We need a Reaper. Before you say it, Dean, we're not going for one the obvious way. I figure we've got three angels on side. Cas, do you know where we can get one?"

"If there was one there, I would see it," Castiel said, "but I don't know where we might find one. They only come at the time of death."

"The hospital?" Dean suggested.

"How's about we utilize the other heavenly allies we have?" Bobby said. "Gabriel and Lucifer might know how to get hold of one."

"Because Lucifer has been so helpful recently," Dean said. Truth was, he didn't want the angel there. He had abandoned them all, Sam included. He could have been an asset searching for Sam, but he'd disappeared off the face of the earth. Dean hadn't prayed to him once, but he knew Bobby had.

Before anyone else could speak, Dean and sent up a prayer to his best hope, "Gabriel, we need you. We've got a way to get—"

"I'm here," Gabriel said.

Dean spun on his heel. "You took your time."

"I apologize," he said sardonically.

"We know where Sam is," Bobby said.

Gabriel's eyes became intense. "Where?"

"Purgatory."

There was a moment of silence and then Gabriel groaned. "Boy, do I feel dumb. How did you work it out?"

"Crowley came by," Dean admitted.

"I feel even more dumb now. Never mind. Did he happen to mention how he cracked it open last time so we can press replay on that particular song?"

"Apparently, we don't need to," Bobby said. "Reapers have a way of getting in; a back door if you like. You bring us a Reaper, we'll do the rest."

Gabriel looked pointedly around the room. "Sure. I'll do that. One question. Why isn't Lucifer here?"

"Because he ducked out and left us," Dean said bitterly. "Because he doesn't care."

"You know that's not true," Bobby said. "Lucifer can't…"

"Handle it?" Dean asked. "Is there one of us here that can?" He pointed at Gabriel. "Apart from angel hair pasta over there I mean. My brother disappeared. I could have sat on my ass and sulked these all this time, too. I didn't, because it's Sam and he needed me."

"It's different," Gabriel said, a bite of anger in his tone.

"No," Dean said, pushing down his own anger. "It really isn't."

Gabriel looked like he wanted to argue the point, but Bobby spoke up. "Okay, okay, this isn't a competition. We have a way to get him back, so how's about we do something about it. Gabriel, do you know where we can find a Reaper?"

"I do," he said. "But there's something we need."

"I swear," Dean started, "if you think we're waiting for that bastard to get his head together to help…" The words trailed off as Gabriel disappeared. "Damn."

Lucifer was sitting on the beach, staring out over the ocean and trying to hold onto the image of his lover at the shore. He wasn't there, of course, but the memory of him was all Lucifer had to cling to.

It was made harder to see Sam's illusion because his concentration was broken by a voice saying, "Boy oh boy, you really screwed up this time, Luci."

"Go away, Gabriel."

"No can do, bro. You're needed."

"There is nothing anyone needs from me anymore." The only person that ever truly wanted or needed from him was gone.

Gabriel gestured to an invisible someone. "Pity party here. Table for one, please."

Lucifer sprung to his feet and advanced on his brother. "I am warning you, Gabriel…"

"Warn me all you like. We both know you won't follow through. Sam tamed you remember."

Storm clouds rolled overhead, and Lucifer grabbed Gabriel's throat, dragging him up to his face. "If you think anything that was gained still exists, you're wrong. Sam is lost. So is Lucifer that was."

"Boohoo," Gabriel said, his voice constricted. "If you'd quit with the whining for a moment and let me talk, you'd know Sam isn't lost. He's just trapped."

Lucifer felt a thrill of something other than the misery he'd been steeped with for weeks. "Trapped where?"

"Purgatory."

He released Gabriel and stepped back. "How do you know this?"

"Satan Junior came by, apparently, and filled in our merry band of searchers. They're working on a plan right now to get him back. It involves finding a Reaper. Now, I thought you'd like to be a part of that plan, help out maybe, but if I'm wrong…"

Lucifer covered his face with his hands, overwhelmed and furious at himself. How had he not known? He was an archangel with immense knowledge and intelligence. He had forsaken Sam when if he'd just taken a moment to think it over, he would have known himself. He could not believe he had been so stupid.

"Yep," Gabriel said, interpreting his expression correctly. "You screwed the pooch. Never mind. It's not too late. I think you tracking down a Reaper and bringing it to the party would go a long way to redeeming you."

Redemption. Did Lucifer care for it? Not for Dean or Bobby or anyone else, but for Sam. He wanted to be able to face him with just a little dignity remaining. He wanted to say he had a part in rescuing him. He wanted to be worthy of love again.

He wanted to save Sam.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Chapter Twenty-Six**_

"Let me get this straight," Madison said. "You're in love with the devil."

"Lucifer," Sam corrected. "And yes, I love him."

She looked doubtful. "How does that even work? How is he capable of you loving back? He's Satan."

"Not anymore," Sam said. "Now he's Lucifer."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means he gave up his happiness and freedom for the world. It means he abandoned the apocalypse for us. He understands humanity now and he sees the good in it. He changed, Maddie."

"And you really love him?"

Sam nodded. "I do."

She stared out over the stream, looking pensive. "Did you think of me at all?"

"I did," Sam said emphatically. "For a long time you were practically all I thought of." Madison and Jess, the women he'd loved. "But you have to understand, I thought you were at peace. It was the only comfort I had after what I did to you. You were gone, I thought to Heaven, and I had to go on living. People needed me. And then Lucifer came, and I fell in love again. I didn't expect it. In fact, it was the last thing I ever thought would happen, but it did. It's not just been a few years, Maddie. We had centuries together."

"How's that?"

"It's a long story, but we were in our own… heaven I guess you'd call it for over two centuries."

"Better than the few days we had," she said with a sigh.

" _Different_ to the few days we had," Sam corrected.

"You must really want to get back to him."

"Yes," Sam said seriously. "All of them: Lucifer, Dean, Bobby and Cas." He forced himself to sound accepting of his fate, though he didn't feel it. Truth was, he was scared for them. Lucifer and Dean had proved in the past that there was nothing they wouldn't do for him. What might they be doing now to try to get him back? How they would twist themselves in knots to save him.

"Guess it's good you found me then," she said.

"It is. I don't think I could make it in this place without you."

She smiled slightly. "That's true, but also not what I meant. You need to get out of here, Sam; not just because it will kill you to stay, but because you need to get back to them. I know a way."

A flicker of hope lit in Sam's chest. "How?"

"There's a portal, a way out. Apparently, God was worried one of His favorite creations would get trapped in here. It won't work for us monsters, but a human should be able to slip through without a problem."

"Where is it?" Sam asked intensely.

"By the north cliffs. I've seen it." Her tone was unmistakably and understandably bitter. Sam would be bitter, too, seeing a way out he couldn't take.

He hesitated before asking, "Why haven't you told me about this before?" He had been in Purgatory for weeks now, fighting and killing for his own survival.

She turned away. "Because I thought you still loved me. I thought that would be worth staying for. I was wrong."

"I do love you," Sam said.

She looked into his eyes. "Perhaps, but you love him more."

Sam had no answer that wouldn't hurt her.

The Reaper was obviously terrified, but he made a good attempt at nonchalance as he faced Lucifer. "I can get you in, well, one of you, but it can't be you."

"Why not?" Lucifer asked through gritted teeth.

"It's a human portal," Ajay said. "No supernatural being can pass through."

"Make an exception," Lucifer said.

"I can't. It's not me being difficult. It's that I _can't_ transport an angel through. It's hard enough to do with a human."

Dean was unconcerned, even a little relieved that he was the one going through. He didn't think he could trust anyone else to get Sam out.

Lucifer turned to him. "Dean…"

"I'm doing it," he said without hesitation. "I'll get him back, Lucifer."

It felt strange to reassure Lucifer when what he wanted to do was slug him for abandoning them when they—Sam—needed him most. But Lucifer was a wreck, and that made it hard for Dean to hold onto his anger. He had only seen one person looking so devastated once in his life, and that was Sam after Lucifer banished himself into the cage again.

"I would be remiss if I didn't warn you," Ajay said. "It's not like Hell. There are no levels you can traverse. This is a pit of constant confusion, danger, pain and fear. There is no way to orient yourself unless you have spent long years there. I can only give you twenty-four hours. Searching for someone that has been there weeks is going to be a challenge."

The thought of the challenge meant nothing to Dean. He was more concerned with the constant pain and fear Sam was going through. Sam was no coward; he was strong, but how long could he handle that place.

"I'm up for it," Dean said. "Just get me in there. I'll find him."

Ajay shifted uncomfortably. "He might not be there anymore. Purgatory takes lives."

"He'll be there," Lucifer said with certainty. He glanced at Dean who nodded. "If he'd died, we'd know."

"Okay," Ajay said. "You might want to arm yourself a little better. You're going to need to stack the odds in your favor as much as you can."

Dean made for the Impala where they'd parked in a side road and popped the trunk. There was a wealth of weapons on offer—weapons Sam hadn't had access to before he was thrust into Purgatory—and he loaded up with everything he could think of for every monster he might face in there.

Bobby came to stand beside him, watching as Dean stowed a silver knife in his boot and strapped on a machete. Dean waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

When he was as armed as he could be, he turned to his friend and said, "Something you want to say, Bobby?"

Bobby hesitated for a moment and then he turned Dean with a hand on his shoulder and dragged him into a hug. Dean returned it forcefully for a moment and then pulled back when he spotted Lucifer standing behind Bobby. He looked as wrecked as he had the moment he'd arrived in Bobby's library, fresh from Gabriel's retrieval but there was something in his eyes now that spoke of hope.

"Something on your mind, Lucifer?" he asked.

"Thank you," Lucifer said fervently.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you're welcome."

"For this," Lucifer said. "For Sam. I know you will do this, bring him back."

"Damn right," Bobby said. "No one better."

Ajay appeared and asked, "Are you ready?"

Dean patted his machete, reassuring himself, and nodded. "More than ready."

"Come with me." Ajay walked deeper in the alley and Dean followed.

"Good luck," Bobby called behind him.

Dean waved a hand in thanks. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

"Sam, to the left!" Madison shouted, then grunted in pain.

Sam couldn't look to see what had happened to her. Two vampires were coming at him from the side. One was armed with a handcrafted blade; he would pose a challenge. The second was relying on fangs for the kill. Sam could handle him.

He kicked the blade wielding vamp in the chest, knocking it back a few feet, and then swung at the fanged vampire with his own weapon. The blade sliced through its neck, dropping the head and body to the ground with thuds. He had no time to relish the kill, though, as the second vampire was coming at him, teeth bared in fury. He struck out with his blade, but the vampire dodged it and hit out with his own. The very tip of it caught Sam across the chest, slicing a burning cut into his skin. Sam lurched back, unbalancing himself so the blow the vampire caught him across the cheek knocked him on his ass, making him drop his blade.

The vampire bore down on him. "Lookie here. Human boy isn't as tough as the stories tell."

"There's stories?" Sam asked, trying to distract the vampire so he could get to his feet again to fight. "I had no idea. Didn't realize I'd left any survivors to tell tales."

The vampire kicked him in the side, and Sam curled into an aching ball. The vampire rolled him with a foot and then set it on Sam's chest, pinning him in place. "Say goodbye to your lady friend, Winchester."

Sam had a moment's fear as he saw his death approaching, and then a surge of anger swept through him. He was not going down like this. He had people he loved that he wanted to get back to, people that needed him as much as he needed them.

He grabbed the vampire's ankle and wrenched it up, knocking it onto its back. He sprung to his feet, pushing down the pain in his gut, and grabbed his blade from the ground. He slammed it down, directly at the center of the vampire's throat, decapitating it with a triumphant shout.

He turned to Madison in time to see her kicking away the head of her attacker and then he gasped as strong hands grabbed his shoulders and turned him. He looked into an unremarkable face that quickly transformed into a huge mouth with sharp teeth. The blade was in his hand, but he couldn't raise it as the Leviathan had moved its grip to his wrist and was twisting.

He was dead, he knew. All the fighting and killing had been for nothing as he wasn't getting out of here. He would never see the people he loved again. He squeezed his eyes shut then he realized he was already dead, because he could hear Dean's voice shouting, "Down, Sam!"

He reacted instinctively, years of following Dean's commands in the heat of battle working in his favor, and dropped to his knees. There was a meaty thud, a grunt and then two more thuds as a head and body fell to the floor. Someone dropped down in front of him and a face swam in his vision. "Sammy, you okay?" A hand pressed to the gash on his chest, making it burn with pain. "Damn, look at you."

Sam blinked, and the face came into focus. "Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm here." He tore open Sam's shirt and hissed between his teeth as he saw the wound.

Sam pushed his hands away and grabbed at his shoulders. "Dean!"

Dean grinned and patted his cheek. "Yeah, Sammy. I'm here."

"How?" Sam asked, then shook his head. "What are you doing here?"

Sam struggled to his feet, not taking his eyes from his brother as he straightened.

"Came to get you out, obviously. Come on, we haven't got long, and this place is huge. We need to—" He cut off as Madison came toward them, one hand raised in a placatory gesture and the other carrying her weapon at her side. Dean stiffened, and his grip tightened around his machete as he shifted to stand in front of Sam.

"No, Dean," Sam said quickly, stepping around him and placing a hand on Dean's chest. "It's Madison."

"Madison?" Dean questioned, leaning forward slightly and narrowing his eyes.

"Hello, Dean. Long time no see."

Dean breathed out in a rush. "Wow."

She smiled. "Yeah. Wow."

Contrary to how Sam had felt when he'd seen Madison again, Dean looked disappointed, sad even.

"Did you come through the portal?" Madison asked him.

"I came through something," Dean said. "I guess you could call it a portal. A Reaper bounced me through some door in an alley and I wound up here." He checked his watch and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "He'll be waiting for us soon."

"Awesome," Sam said. "Let's go."

Dean hesitated. "Sam, I…"

"What?" Sam asked. "You came to get us out, right?"

"He came to get _you_ out," Madison corrected.

"It's not like that," Dean said quickly. "It's that this door is for humans only. Not even Lucifer could use it. I'm sorry, Maddie, but you're…"

"Not human," she said bitterly. "It doesn't matter. Sam, go with him. Get out of here."

"Not without you," Sam said angrily.

She looked mournful. "I told you, there is no way out for me."

"You don't know that!" Sam said emphatically. "You're still part human. It might work."

Perhaps he was imagining it, but he thought he saw a spark of something deep down in her eyes—something that could be hope. It was quickly quashed when Dean spoke.

"Sam, if an archangel can't make it work for him, it's unlikely the Reaper can do it for us."

"Then we'll use the other exit," Sam said. "There's another portal here. Madison said it's an escape hatch for humans. We've been working our way there, and it's not far now."

"It's for _humans_ ," Madison said.

Sam shook his head and started to speak but Dean spoke over him. "Look, Sam, I get that you're torn, but we don't have time for this. The Reaper will be waiting, and he told me he can only wait so long." He turned to Madison. "Maddie, I am so sorry for what has happened to you, but we've got a real chance of getting out of here."

"I know," she said. "I understand. Sam, this is it for me. No portal is letting me out. Go with Dean."

"No," Sam said defiantly.

"Sam!" Dean said angrily. "This is not the time to play the hero. Lucifer is waiting for you. Are you going to give up what might be your one shot at getting out of here?"

The pull of Lucifer's name was hard to deny, but Sam couldn't leave Madison behind. He had to at least try to get her out. She deserved that for what she had done for him.

"No," he said firmly.

"No!" Dean growled. "Sammy, this could be it!"

"I don't believe that. Hell couldn't keep us apart. Purgatory won't either." He picked up his weapon from the ground and walked away from them both — heading north.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven**_

Lucifer paced back and forth in the mouth of the alley. The promised twenty-four hours for Dean to retrieve Sam was almost over. He would soon have the man he loved back in his arms. When he did, when Sam was home and safe, he would never let him go again.

He felt an angel's approach and Castiel appeared with Bobby who looked around hopefully and said, "Anything?"

"It is not quite time," Lucifer said. "Soon though." It was a promise.

He was filled with shame for how he had reacted when Sam had been lost. He should have been there with them all, searching for a way to bring him home, not wallowing in his misery on the beach of Membata. It was ridiculous that the strongest among all of Sam's loved ones was the one that had given in and left him to his fate when the humans, the weak ones, had found a way to save him. He wondered if he would have the ability to look Sam in the eye again when he knew what had happened. And he would know—there were no secrets between him and Sam.

The reaper checked his watch and nodded. "It is time."

There was a collective sigh from those gathered and Lucifer nodded vigorously. "Go then. Bring them home."

The reaper seemed to hesitate on the verge of speech for a moment, and then he shook his head slightly and said, "I will return soon." He walked away from them into the alley and Lucifer closed his eyes. Had he been human, he would have sent up a prayer of hope, but he could not supplicate himself to the Father that had banished and punished him.

He clasped his hands in front of him and waited for his Sam to come home.

Dean couldn't hold onto his anger at Sam for long; he was just so damn relieved to have found him again. The trek through Purgatory had brought home to him in a hurry what Sam had been living with since his arrival—constant warfare against monsters. Of course, Sam couldn't leave Madison there to that. His only worry was that when they came to the other portal, she wouldn't be able to pass through and Sam would tie himself in knots trying to find a new way to get her out.

He was worried about Sam's injury, too. It was a deep cut, and though both Sam and Madison assured him wounds healed fast in that place, he was relieved when, after a few hours of walking, Madison announced it was time for Sam to rest.

Dean hadn't thought of the mechanics of sleeping in Purgatory such as how to escape attack, but it became clear as they came to a tree and Sam sat down and slumped against it while Madison kept her feet and leveled her weapon over her shoulder, ready to keep watch. Sam's eyes fell closed almost immediately, though his fingers remained curled around the hilt of his own blade.

"You should sleep, too," she said to Dean.

"No need," Dean lied. "I slept plenty before I came here." He was tired, but there was no way he was leaving Sam's defense to anyone else in that place. He squared his stance and held tight to his machete.

Minutes passed in watchful silence before Madison spoke without turning. "I don't want this, you know. I want Sam to get out of here."

"I know. But he's a stubborn son of a bitch. He's not leaving without you."

She looked out through the trees. "He's going to have to."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"When we get to the portal, I'm not trying to go through. I'm not coming with you."

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"Because my life there is over. Everyone I know there thinks I am dead. I can't just slip back into my life again, and I don't have the strength to start a new one. And I am a werewolf. I begged Sam to kill me because I didn't want to take another life. I didn't want to live as a monster. I still don't."

"I get that, but, Maddie, you can't want this place more. It's Hell, and believe me I know what that's like."

He saw her shift in his peripheral vision. "No, I don't want this place. What I wish for more than anything is what I thought I was getting when Sam pulled that trigger—Heaven. I want peace. Heaven has to be the answer to that."

"There are no words for it," Dean said, remembering a conversation with Sam from a long time ago.

"What?"

"Sam went to Heaven once. There was an accident and he was killed. He went to Heaven and he said there are no words for it. He looked… I think it was a good place."

"And that's what I want," she said sounding sad. "Heaven. I can't have it though and, as bad as this place is, it's better that the hell I would live back on Earth."

"Heaven," a voice sighed behind them. Dean turned and saw Sam looking at Madison's back with an expression of such sadness it was painful. He got to his feet and approached Madison slowly and laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and Dean saw the tears streaming down her face. "We can get you there, Maddie," he said. "Heaven I mean."

"How?" she asked in a choked voice.

Sam smiled. "My lover is an archangel. He can do anything."

Madison looked doubtful.

"Please, Madison. At least let me try. Whatever happens, it's got to be better than Purgatory."

She nodded. "Okay. We can try."

Sam beamed at her, an innocent and exultant expression for such a dark place. "Thank you." He became businesslike almost at once. "Okay, here's what we're going to do…"

Bobby had prepared the house as best he could for Sam and Dean's return. There were clean sheets on their beds and the hot water tank was full. He didn't know if Sam would stay at his place or if he'd want some time alone with Lucifer, but he hoped for the former. After being without him so long, he wanted him around awhile before he disappeared again.

He knew Dean was furious with Lucifer for his abandonment, and he wondered if he had told Sam what had happened already. It would be pointless for Sam to know; it would change nothing in his view of Lucifer. They had the kind of love that forgave anything. Hell, when Sam had fallen for Lucifer it had been in the middle of an apocalypse. The fact Lucifer had lost his mind and given up hope without Sam wasn't going to come between them.

Lucifer was standing silent and still, almost looking like he was praying. Castiel was just as still. Bobby was the only one that felt the need to shift from foot to foot and nervously check his watch. It seemed to be taking too long. The reaper had barely been gone five minutes when he'd taken Dean in—it had been almost an hour now.

When the hour ticked past, Bobby cleared his throat and started to say, "Lucifer, it's been—" but Lucifer held up a hand and started along the alley. Bobby and Castiel followed. Bobby's heart was pounding. They were coming. He was going to get his boys back and then he was going to make sure they didn't disappear again—though how he'd manage that with them being the trouble magnets they were, he didn't know.

They rounded a corner and came to a large loading area at the back of a restaurant. There was graffiti painting the walls, and blue door that was spilling white light. Bobby's breaths came quick as looked at it. The tension in the air was thick. Lucifer stood a little apart from them, closer to the light, as if he couldn't even bear to be parted from Sam by a few feet.

The shape of a person appeared in the light, and Bobby felt a moment's thrill of excitement before he realized it wasn't Sam or Dean. The person was too short—it was Ajay. He walked out of the light, and then the most awful thing happened. The light disappeared with only one him there, no sign of Sam or Dean.

Ajay walked toward Lucifer, fear all over his face. "I am sorry."

"Where are they?" Lucifer asked through his teeth.

Ajay swallowed. "I don't know. I went to the place we arranged to meet, and there was no one there. I searched, but there is no sign of him. I'm sorry, but…"

"You don't think he made it," Bobby said in a breathless tone, his heart, racing until then, sinking to his boots.

"No," Ajay said. "I don't think he made it. I told him explicitly to be at the place of parting at the right time, and he wasn't there."

Bobby turned away, his eyes welling with burning tears. Dean, gone. Sam, gone. They were his boys. His, Had been since they _were_ boys, and they were gone now.

"He might not be dead," Castiel ventured. "Perhaps he just ran out of time."

The result was the same though. They weren't there. They were dead or trapped in that pit of misery and pain. Either way, they were gone.

Lucifer was staring at the wall, a look of abject devastation on his face. Bobby felt the same way. They had pinned all their hope of Dean getting Sam out—on having them both back, and it was all in vain. They had failed.

Only… they might not have. Bobby rounded on Ajay and said, "Take me in!"

Ajay looked nervous. "To Purgatory?"

"Yes," Bobby said emphatically. "Take me through the portal. I'll find them and bring them back."

"Bobby," Castiel started, "if Dean couldn't manage to bring him out…"

"You think I've got no chance?" Bobby asked angrily. "I thought you knew me better than that, Cas. I'm not some doddery old man. I'm a hunter. I'll get them out or die trying."

"No," Lucifer said quietly.

"No?" Bobby gaped at him. Of them all, Lucifer had to want to get Sam back more than anyone. They were lovers, entwined in a way Bobby had rarely seen. Lucifer had lost his reason without Sam, so how could he possibly say no now?

"No," Lucifer said. "Sam would not want this."

"Who gives a damn?" Bobby asked. "This is about saving his life."

Lucifer shook his head. "Sam is not dead. I would feel it if he was. And I do not believe Dean is either. I think he is just lost. Neither of them will thank me if I send you in after them, risking your life in this way. I won't do it."

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what the hell do we do?"

Lucifer turned back to Ajay. "You will go back in, do you understand me? You're not at risk from the monsters that inhabit that place, are you?"

Ajay shook his head. "No. I am not, but…"

"But what?" Lucifer asked menacingly.

"Nothing," Ajay said quickly. "I will find them for you and bring them back."

"You will," Lucifer agreed.

"And what the hell are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Bobby asked.

Lucifer shrugged. "Do what you will. I am going to stay here and wait for Sam." He turned to the painted door on the wall and sighed. "I failed him once. I will not again."

Sam felt it when they were getting close to the portal. It was like a magnet, drawing him on. From the look of relief on Dean's face, he thought he was feeling it, too. Madison didn't seem to. She seemed to be growing ever more anxious by the minute. She didn't have faith in Lucifer the way Sam did. She didn't know him. Sam did. He knew Lucifer wouldn't fail him, not something so important.

Their plan to escape using the portal was apparently evident to some of the other inhabitants of Purgatory, as they had to face more creatures than before as they drew closer to the north cliffs. With the three of them experienced fighters, they were able to take care of their attackers without anyone getting hurt, but when they were within sight of the cliffs, Sam's confidence wavered. There was a group of Leviathans there, seemingly waiting for them. Without a word, they came to a stop together, concealed by trees.

"Damn," Sam whispered.

"We're not going to be able to get around them. Look." Dean pointed at the spot at the top of a low ridge. The air was rippling, and as he watched, Sam saw a swirling vortex of light appear. It was the escape hatch, and it was reacting to them.

The Leviathans noticed, too. They looked up at it and smiled, knowing their prey was close.

"We'll go through," Sam said, forcing confidence into his voice he didn't truly feel. He glanced at Dean guiltily. He had come here to get Sam out, and now he was in real danger that _he_ wouldn't get out again.

"Dean…" he started apologetically.

"Save it," Dean said. "Tell me when we're home." He smiled, taking the heat from his words.

"I will."

"Madison?" Dean asked.

"I'm ready," she said.

Sam tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon and set off at a run. He could hear Dean and Madison behind him, racing into the fray.

The Leviathans saw them coming. They threw back their heads in unison, revealing huge mouths and teeth. Sam felt a quiver of fear at what he was facing, but he quickly forced it down and raised his blade. The first Leviathan came to meet him halfway, and Sam managed to part its head from its body with one swing, but the next wasn't so easy. He was forced back a few steps by a blow to his jaw. He kept his feet though and landed his own hit on the Leviathan's shoulder with his blade. It roared in pain and anger, and Sam quickly wrenched the blade free to strike again. The Leviathan came at him, and Sam took a swing at the side of its neck. The head fell to the ground with an anticlimactic thud. Sam looked around quickly, seeing both Dean and Madison locked in combat. Dean was facing off with a female and Madison a male. Pieces of Leviathan were scattered on the ground and there were none left standing.

Madison's attacks were carefully chosen whereas Dean fought with passion and fury—he was the one Sam worried about the most. He was the one Sam set out to help. He kicked the Leviathan in the small of the back, making its balance waver slightly. Dean took advantage of the moment to go in for the kill. As the head thumped to the ground, Sam turned to Madison. She was standing over the body of her combatant, eyes blazing with the fire of the fight.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to the portal. "Come on, Maddie. Let's get this done," he said. He took the penknife Dean offered and cut across his forearm. Blood welled and dripped down to the ground.

Madison looked doubtful as Sam handed the knife to her. "Sam…" she started.

"No," he said firmly. "This is going to work. Come on."

"If it doesn't," she said. "If I can't be saved, will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Sam vowed automatically.

"Dump me in the ocean. Don't put me back in a body. I don't want that life again."

Sam closed his eyes, pushing down the swell of emotion her request triggered, and nodded. "I won't make you live it again."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sam." She cut across her arm and reached for him. He clasped his fingers around her elbow and she did the same to him. Linked, Sam spoke the words of Latin Lucifer had taught him a long time ago. _"Conjunti sumus, unum sumus."_ Madison seemed to pour into the wound on his arm in a fiery light. Sam felt the burn of her soul as she disappeared into him. When she was gone, Dean wrapped a cloth around the wound while Sam stood motionless, absorbing the feeling.

"Let's go," Dean said, tugging on Sam's arm.

Sam allowed himself to be led a few steps and then he came back to himself and moved under his own power to up the ridge to the portal. When they were within a few feet of the light, Sam reached for Dean's hand and gripped it tight.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean reassured. "It's going to be fine. I'll get you out."

They each drew a deep breath and stepped into the light.


	28. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

Lucifer stood at the door to the portal, patiently waiting.

Though Bobby was forced by human weakness to return to his home, Castiel had come back to wait for Sam and Dean to come with Lucifer. They didn't speak often, and when they did, it was to reassure the other. Gabriel stayed absent, but he communicated with Lucifer by angel radio when he needed to.

Lucifer was wondering what changes would have been wrought on Sam by his time in Purgatory. He worried the constant warfare of the place would make his lover someone other than he was in his heart. Sam had always held onto a gentleness that Lucifer loved in him. He hated to think that would be gone, though he reassured himself that he would bring it back in time. That was his duty.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a voice called to him. He stiffened and then a wide smile crept over his lips.

" _Lucifer, I'm here…"_

"Sam," he breathed.

"Sam?" Castiel asked eagerly.

Lucifer nodded. "He's back. Tell Bobby." He spread his wings and took flight, searching for Sam with his grace. Though it took less time than a sigh to reach his love, it still seemed too long. Lucifer came to a stop, drawing his wings in, and stared in awe at the sight before him. Sam was there, alive, dirt streaked and exhausted looking, but wonderfully there.

"Lucifer," Sam said in a breathless voice.

There was no thought, no conscious instruction. Lucifer just stepped forward, into Sam's space and grabbed at his shoulders. He pulled him forward and their lips met in a burning kiss. Sam sighed against him, and Lucifer swallowed his air, drawing it into himself and sustaining his very life with the gift. They stayed pressed together for a long time, melding to each other again. Someone cleared their throat, but neither Sam nor Lucifer cared to break apart. Only when Sam pulled back, breathless, and rested his forehead against his did Lucifer become fully aware of the people around them again, not that he cared much what they thought or felt.

"My Sam," Lucifer said, a reassurance in words.

Sam smiled and spoke in Enochian, "I'm here. I am not leaving again."

"Hate to break up the party," Dean said, "but we need to take care of Madison, Sam."

"Madison?" Lucifer asked.

Sam stepped back and fumbled with a cloth wrapped around his arm. Lucifer untied the knot for him and then drew a sharp breath as he saw what lay beneath. There was a soul concealed in Sam's arm.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Madison," Sam said. "She was in Purgatory. I brought her home."

Lucifer remembered Sam telling him the story of his former love, the werewolf, and he felt mildly disgusted that she was there in him. He swallowed down his disgust and said, let's set her free then."

"Wait," Dean said quickly. He looked apologetically at Sam and said. "She doesn't want this. She wants peace."

Sam nodded. "Heaven, Lucifer. Can you do that for her?"

"A werewolf in Heaven?" Lucifer asked.

"Please," Sam pleaded. "I promised."

"Of course." As if he could deny Sam anything now. It would be a first, but Lucifer could make it happen. Just because his Father would disapprove, it didn't mean Lucifer cared much. He had done more and worse before than allow a soul peace in Heaven against custom.

Sam beamed at him. "Thank you."

Lucifer ran his hand over the glow of Sam's arm, and a small cut appeared, enough to siphon out the soul without hurting Sam. The light spilled from Sam and to the ground, ebbing a flowing for a moment and then forming the shape of a beautiful woman. Lucifer could not but feel a pang of envy for the love Sam had given her in life.

The woman smiled and looked in to Lucifer's eyes. "Lucifer?"

"Hello, Madison," he said.

She nodded slightly at him and then turned her attention to Sam.

"He can do it," Sam said quickly. "He can take you there."

A blissful smile broke over her face and she sighed. "Thank you."

Sam stepped forward and reached for her, the palm of his hand coming to rest an inch from the light of her face. "Thank you, Maddie. I wouldn't have made it without you."

She nodded solemnly.

"Are you ready?" Lucifer asked.

"Yes," she whispered. She turned to Sam, and look of longing was barely concealed in her eyes. "Goodbye, Sam."

A tear crept from Sam's eye and trailed down his cheek. "Goodbye, Maddie."

Lucifer took Sam's hand and squeezed and with the other he reached toward the light of Madison and raised it slowly. The light became formless again and rose to the sky. All eyes tracked it until it was out of sight.

Sam sniffed loudly and leaned his head against Lucifer's shoulder. "Thank you, Lucifer."

Lucifer smiled. One day, Sam would understand there was nothing he wouldn't do for him. "Are you ready to leave," he asked. "There is an ornery old hunter that I am sure is eager to see you both."

Dean grinned. "Hell yeah. I don't know about you, Sam, but I need a drink."

"A drink sounds good. So does a shower, and sleep, maybe a week of it."

"Whatever you need," Lucifer said. "I will be there."

He would not leave Sam again. They had already been apart too long. Heaven could solve its own problems. Lucifer had something far more important to do—to love his human.

The man that had tamed him.


End file.
